


In Dependence

by htfrjolenz



Series: The Adventures and Perils of Davy Jones [8]
Category: The Monkees
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Drama, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Humor, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Graphic Violence, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 82,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htfrjolenz/pseuds/htfrjolenz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(The Monkees are as they were in 1966 in this saga but this is an altered reality story, it takes place in modern times and certain facts have been changed to create the plot and environment.)</p><p>Summary: Series follower to “Stressed Spelled Backwards Is Desserts”<br/>The road to recovery from his injuries in the county jail is riddled with potholes; young Davy manages to fall into a big one …</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Very VERY hardcore sexual descriptions, foul language, violence  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing Monkees related and all of this is a work of fiction - it never happened except in my cracked brain. I make no aspersions upon anyone's sexual preferences 
> 
> This work is EXTREMELY personal to me, and I am hoping to convey truths and personal experience as they took place in the lives of some precious people very dear to my heart. Most of what occurs here is based on real events, unfortunately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Very VERY hardcore sexual descriptions, foul language, violence  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing Monkees related and all of this is a work of fiction - it never happened except in my cracked brain. I make no aspersions upon anyone's sexual preferences 
> 
> This piece is very personal to me as the events depicted within are taken from real events as they happened to some very special people in my life. I had to tell their story - to let it out so that even if ONE person is helped by knowing how this awful monster destroys lives - most particularly the children of those addicted - then I have done something.

   "Morning kiddo, you ready to go?"  
   "G'mornin' Tony. You bettah b'lieve I am, this doctor visit is my ticket orf of the _couch_!"  
   "Well that's entirely up to Dr. Bowen, so don't be too quick to jump the gun," he warned.  
   "We shouldn't be more than an hour guys," he called over his shoulder.  
                                                                             *                   
  "Well David," Dr Bowen greeted him, "you're looking much better than the last time we saw each other. How are you coming along?"  
   "Pretty good doc, moving right proper n hardly any pain."  
   "Let's have a look."  
   Examining his head and running him through a series of range of motion tests, the doctor was fairly pleased with Davy's progress.  
   "I'd like to get a couple of x-rays before I make a final decision. My nurse Miss Nancy will take you across the hall and get a few pictures, okay?"  
   "Yessir."  
   Fifteen minutes later back in the exam room the doctor returned, all smiles.  
   "Everything looks great. Ribs are all knitted back together and your arm is fully healed as well."  
   "Yesss!"  
   "I'm _not_ however, very happy with the range-of-motion you have in your left shoulder. Let's take a look at your optical reflexes."  
   Using a penlight, he examined both of Davy's eyes, checking pupil reaction, muscle range and pupil size.  
   "Alright David, I want you to follow this light moving only your eyes."  
   Performing the test first with both eyes open, then separately with either eye covered, Davy ran through the optic sensory test with ease.  
   "Neurologically everything appears perfect. I'm giving you a clean bill of health - with one exception; I'd like you to do a few weeks of physical therapy to rebuild some of the muscle mass you've lost, try to get a better rotation in your left shoulder.  We'll take care of all the arrangements, there's an office right up the street that does pretty good work. I'll have Nancy call you with the appointment information."  
   "Any activity restrictions?"  
   "No, he's free to do whatever he's comfortable with, provided young man that you use some common sense. Don't be swinging from the chandeliers by that left arm _just yet_."  
   "No sir, I won't,” he grinned, “Thanks doc."  
   "You should be able to rely on Tylenol for any residual pain you experience. If you have any major complications, feel free to schedule an appointment with me. Good luck David."  
   "Thank you Dr. Bowen, I appreciate all you've done for Davy."  
   "Yes, thank you."  
   "My pleasure."  
                                                                                      *****  
   "I cahn't _wait_ to get out on the beach, I'm so white I'm stahrting to look like a _polar_ bear."  
   "Just remember not to overdo it with that arm."  
   "Oh believe me, I'll be careful - m'not going through _this_ again fer anything!"  
   "I Bet the guys will be happy to have you back on duty at home, cooking and such."  
   "Hey, could we stop at the mahrket n pick up some things? I wanna barbecue tonight since it's me first night back on my feet so to speak."  
   "That sounds like a great idea kiddo; I'll call the boys and let them know not to plan dinner tonight."  
                                                                                      *****  
  The five men spent the afternoon on the beach soaking up the sun, making the best of Davy's first day back in the swing of things. They tossed a frisbee back and forth, spent some time in the ocean and played a few games of badminton, competitively jeering each other as always. When the sun reached its climax and the temperature peaked, they trekked across the sand toward home to prepare dinner. Tony threw together a quick pasta salad, while Mike heated up the coals in the grill.  
Davy mixed up his special seasoning, blending it into the meat, making five enormous hamburger patties.  
   "Does anybody not want cheese on their burger?"  
   "It ain't a proper burger now without globs of cheese Tiny."  
   "Right then, 'ow bout the hot dogs, burnt or just warm?"  
   "Char them puppies!"  
   "Amen!"  
   "You got it, burnt weenies coming up. I've got watermelon chilling in the fridge for ahftah dinner too."  
   "What about toppings for the burgers and dogs?"  
   "Way ahead of you Mike - I've got lettuce, onion, tomato and pickles sliced n ready to go, plus diced onions and homemade relish."  
   "Wow Davy, you really thought this out!"  
   "Thank you Petah, I tried."  
   "Chips?" Micky questioned.  
   "Yes Micky, I wouldn't leave out yer favorite thing n spoil the whole cookout. Oh - I almost forgot to grill the corn!"  
   "Corn on the cob?"  
   "Well ya cahn't grill _loose kernels_ Mike."  
   "How'd you know to make all these here fixins Tiny?"  
   "We do 'ave cookouts in England too ya know. Besides, I've lived stateside long enough to know what you Yanks like to eat on a picnic."  
                                                                             *  
   Tony and Mike set the patio table while Davy manned the barbecue, the inviting smell driving their taste buds wild. The heavenly scent soon drifted inside, leading Micky by the nose to the back deck to drool hungrily beside the grill.  
   "Couple more minutes," Davy said, tweaking a burger, "would someone please bring the toppings and condiments to the table?"  
   "I'll get them Davy."  
   "Thanks Pete."  
   "I'll grab the chips," Micky offered.  
   "I'll get my pasta salad."  
   "I got the cokes," Mike called.  
   "Thanks fellas, I appreciate all the help."  
   The table laden, the four men gathered under the umbrella, forks in hand as if starvation had set in days ago. Eagerly waiting, they strained to peek over the raised lid of the grill, anxious for the main event to come off the coals.  
   "Chow time!" Davy announced.  
   He came to the table, tray balancing precariously on one hand, everything steamy and perfectly cooked.  
   "Wow that looks good," Tony said, "smells even _better_."  
   "I 'ope you guys like it; me own secret recipe fer the burgers. Dig in fellas."  
   "Pass me the corn will ya Pete?"  
   "Sure Micky, can I have the pasta salad please?"  
   "I need a hot dog bun."  
   "Mike are you finished with the relish?"  
   "Sure Tony. Tiny you want summa these tomaters?"  
   "Oh ya, aren't they beauties?"  
   "Who's got the pickles?"  
   "Here Mick."  
   " _SWEET MOTHER OF MERCY_!"  
   Everyone turned their attention to Mike: The resident Texan, steak aficionado and King of the Smoke House had just bitten into his cheeseburger.  
   "Something _wrong_ Mike?" Davy asked, an innocent quirk to his right eyebrow.  
   "What in the name of Sam Houston did you _do_ to these burgers?"  
   Unsure of where this was going, the others eyed their meat patties suspiciously, waiting for the Beef Master to render a verdict.  
   "If I tell you, I'd 'ave to cut off yer tongue n break all yer fingers, so you could never tell another soul." He grinned, "Doncha _like_ it?"  
   "Like it? Where I come from, they raise cattle especially _for_ cookin'. They cook beef for a living - it's bred into us down in Texas - don't _NOBODY_ know how to make a burger like a Texan makes a burger. But this here is the _**BEST**_ durn cheeseburger I've ever had the pleasure of lettin' drip down my chin!"  
   Cracking a satisfied smile, Davy nodded his head briefly. "Well I could've told ya _THAT_."  
   Breathing a collective sigh of relief, the other men eagerly tasted what Mike had declared to be the end-all be-all of cheeseburger rapture.  
   "Oma _ga_ Daby thithus _inquellabowl_!"  
   "Wow Micky, swallow - _then speak_ \- I cahn't understand a word you said."  
   "I did," Tony said, "and I agree."  
   "I said wow Davy this is _incredible_!"  
   His mouth stuffed full, Peter nodded his agreement.  
   "What exactly _DID_ you put in these things?"  
   "Not gonna tell ya."  
   "That's just wrong on so many levels."  
   "Pasta salad is excellent Tony. "  
   "Thanks kiddo. Now about the burgers …"  
   "Nothing to it really, just a few seasonings, a little cooked crumbled bacon and my secret ingredient."  
   "Which is?"  
   "A _secret_."  
   "I'll find out later," Micky declared, a sneaky grin on his face, "I happen to know _how_ to make him talk."  
   "Talk li'e that'll getcha cut orf ya know."  
   "You couldn't go through with a threat like that, you wouldn't last a day without some _Micky_ love."  
   "I got along fairly well just me n Rosy Palmer fore I _got_ with you ya know."  
   "Ya well you've had the Italian Stallion, there's no going back _now_ little one."  
   "Blahst I hate it when 'es right."  
   "Really Micky, I'm trying to _digest_ over here."  
   "Admit it man, it's jealousy. _Everyone_ wants a piece of the kid."  
   "I've already.. never mind. _New_ subject please. "  
   "Already _WHAT_?" Mike jumped in, curiosity piqued.  
   " **Nothing**!" Micky and Tony said in unison.  
   Mouth agape, Davy stopped eating, his fork mid-air. Eyes widening, his head snapped sharply in Micky's direction.  
   " **THAT** was yer _one-night stand_?!"  
   Blushing a deep crimson, Micky dropped his head. Raising a single eyebrow, he stole a furtive glance at Tony, who had taken a sudden intense interest in his own lap.  
   " _Do WHAT_?" Mike said with a sly grin.  
   "It shouldn't come as such a surprise to everyone," Peter spoke up, "I knew that and nobody told _me_ anything."  
   "How did _you_ know?" Micky asked, back among the living again.  
   "Well you said once before that you'd had a thing one night with an old friend. There's nobody in the _world_ you're a closer friend with and the two of you go way _way_ back. Simple math."  
   "Something interesting in yer _lap_ there Tony?" Davy teased.  
   "Do you want to be grounded until you're _**forty-five**_ Davy?"  
   "No sir, just gonna sit 'ere n finish my dinnah," he grinned.  
   "At any rate," Tony managed, "the doctors office called, you start physical therapy tomorrow morning at ten. With paperwork and all, we need to be there fifteen minutes early so be ready by nine thirty."  
   "Sure, it's a _date_ ," he snickered.  
   "You have **_no clue_** how much influence I, as your legal guardian, can have over the amount of _pain_ the therapist will inflict upon you, _obviously_."  
   "Erm, did I say _date_? Appointment, **_scheduled visit_**.. yaa. S'what I meant. _Really_."  
   "Mmmhmm."  
   "Love you Tony, _lots_ of respect."  
   "I'm quite sure."  
   "Some watermelon?"  
   "Why yes my little suck-up," he smiled, "I'd love some."  
   "Coming right up.  
   A while later, five young men lounged around a bonfire on the beach, spitting watermelon seeds into paper cups and holding their bulging stomachs. Relaxing to the sounds of the dying day, they lay listening to natures symphony: The waves crashing against the breakers, a few straggling gulls in search of a late-night meal, the distant horn of a passing freighter on the pacific and somewhere in the night a coyote howling at the perfect full moon.  
   "I'm sorry fellas, I think I'm gonna call it a night."  
   "You tired already little one? It's still early."  
   "Not tired s'much, m’not feelin' very well."  
   "You overdo it today kiddo?"  
   "I don't think it's that really, maybe too much sun ahftah weeks of being cooped up inside. Nothing a night's sleep won't cure, I'm sure. I'll just clean up right quick and go up to bed."  
   "Micky and I can do that Davy, you cooked and Mike and Tony set the table, it's only fair."  
   "Yaa, you go on upstairs babe, we'll take care of the food and stuff."  
   "Okay, thanks you guys. G'night everybody."  
   "Night Tiny."  
   "Good night kiddo."  
   "I'll be up in a few Dave. Come on Pete, let's get this cleaned up."  
   "Goodnight Davy, I sure hope you get feeling better."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Micky woke to find himself alone in bed. Normally a sound sleeper, it was quite rare for Davy to be up during the night. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand: Three thirty-seven a.m. Sitting up he pawed the covers off, looking around in the dark. A telltale gleam of light coming from beneath the bathroom door indicated the location of his absent paramour. In a cat-like stretch, he crawled across the bed, padding barefoot to the other side of the room. A soft moan met his ears, and concerned, he tapped on the door.  
   "Davy, can I come in?"  
   "Mmmhmm."  
   Easing the door open Micky slipped inside. Clad only in his pajama pants, Davy sat on the floor hunched over the toilet, resting his head on one arm. The acrid stench in the air spoke for itself well enough: He'd clearly been throwing up.  
   "You _okay_ little one?"  
   "Getting there."  
   Running warm water in the sink, Micky wet a washcloth, and wringing it out well he handed it to Davy.  
   "Thanks," he said, flushing the commode, "man I _hate_ that."  
   "You getting sick or something?" Micky asked, placing a hand to Davy's clammy forehead.  
   "Dunno, feel crappy but not like I've got a bug or anything."  
   "No fever, but your color _sucks_. You're shaking pretty hard too, are you cold?"  
   "No, just feel puny."  
   "Maybe you ate too much. You did have like **_half_** of that watermelon."  
   "Maybe," he shrugged, struggling to his feet, "was _worth_ it if that's the case."  
   "You need any help?"  
   "Naa, gonna wash me face n rinse me mouth out and come back to bed. You go on ahead, I'll be right there."  
   "Okay cookie, holler if you need me."  
   "Alright."  
   Davy splashed cold water onto his sweat-slicked cheeks, cooling his flushed skin. Pouring a generous amount of mouthwash, he rinsed and spit several times, killing off the nasty taste. Feeling fresher, he made his way back to bed, settling into the waiting curve of Micky's body.  
   "Feel any better?"  
   "Mmm I do now."  
   "Well then, come a little _closer_ babe."  
   "If I get any closer I'll be _behind_ you."  
   "That could be interesting.”  
   "Yer such a _letch_."  
   "Never bothered you before."  
   "It still doesn't, just making a point."  
   "We could start your physical therapy tonight…”  
   "Ooh _baby_."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Tuesday morning found Mike and Peter sipping coffee bright and early, when Micky came lumbering down the stairs.  
   "Well look who's outta bed before noon today."  
   "Morning Micky."  
   "Uh huh, morning.”  
   "Coffee?"  
   " _GOD_ yes."  
   "Rough night shotgun? Makin up for lost time?"  
   "Not exactly, Davy was sick during the night - close to four o’clock. “  
   "Is he okay?"  
   "Yaa, I think he ate too much watermelon last night."  
   "Explains why he's still asleep, but why aren't you?"  
   "I couldn't handle it anymore; he's up there tossing around in the bed like the mattress is on fire."  
   "Mebbe he is sick, you check his temperature?"  
   "Cool as a cucumber. Who made the coffee? It's _REALLY_ good."  
   "Guilty.”  
   "Nice job Pete."  
   "Thank you Micky."  
   "Well we'll just keep an eye on him, mebbe he ate too much n mebbe he got too rambunctious yesterday after being in the house for so long. Maybe he's getting sick and just didn't have a fever yet."  
   "Maybe so, he did turn me down this morning."  
   "What's _that_ got to do with anything?"  
   "Davy ** _never_** says no."  
   "Oh my good grief."  
   "Shouldn't he be getting up soon? He has an appointment at ten."  
   "Lemme drink my coffee and I'll go wake him up."  
   "No time for kissy-poo either shotgun."  
   "What're you my _mother_?"  
   "I just know how _long-winded_ you two can be."  
   "I do have _incredible_ stamina."  
   "Well lookie what the cat dragged down the steps."  
   "Morning Davy."  
   "Not if I can 'elp it."  
   "What’sa matter cookie?"  
   "Nothing."  
   "What's wrong Tiny; you lose your stilts or sumthin? Cuz yer lookin _mighty_ low."  
   "Bugger orf Mike, I've 'ad enough of the _peewee_ routine."  
   "Well damn, who pissed in your corn flakes?"  
   "No coffee?"  
   "I'm sorry Dave, I took the last cup. I'll make another pot babe, be ready in a jiff."  
   "Don't bloody _bothah_ \- selfish bullshit!"  
   Barefoot and wearing just his jeans, Davy huffed out the front door slamming it behind him.  
   "Wow, what's eating him?"  
   "Mebbe ya should’a tried harder last night shotgun."  
  
   "Morning kiddo, like some coffee?"  
   "At least somebody's on the ball, thanks."  
   "Trouble in paradise?"  
   "Just one of those days."  
   "Not to make matters worse, but you're a little under-dressed for therapy, aren't you?"  
   " _ **Crikey**_! I _plum_ forgot - when do we hafta leave?"  
   "You've got about twenty minutes."  
   "Grand. I'll be right back."  
   Coffee cup in hand, Davy trotted back home, coming through the door like a man on a mission. Without so much as a nod to his roommates, he was up the staircase and behind his closed door in a flash.  
   "Did he just bustle through here with a cuppa coffee?"  
   "Cuppa sumthin."  
   "But he _yelled_ at me when I offered to make some more!"  
   "Ya know how wives can be Micky," Mike teased, "maybe he got his monthly. He _did_ turn ya down this mornin'."  
   "Very funny.”  
   "Everybody has an off day," Peter defended.  
   "Best way to handle a testy one - turn him over your _knee_."  
   "Fat lot of good that'd do, he'd _probably_ like it."  
   "Well you'd still put him in a better mood."  
   "Sorry mates," Davy said cheerily, skipping into the kitchen, "m'runnin a bit late fer my appointment, cahn't chat just now. Be back in a few."  
   Bending over Micky's shoulder with one leg in the air he planted a juicy kiss on his lips, surprising and delighting him in one fell swoop.  
   "Love you, see you in a bit!"  
   "I love you too …"  
   And he was out the door.  
   " .. Who _are_ you?" Micky called after him, confusion twisting his handsome features.  
   Just as perplexed, Peter merely shrugged. Mike made a spanking gesture with his right hand, bringing an exaggerated eye-roll from Micky.  
                                                                                      *****  
   Amy Fowler called them back into the physical therapy clinic promptly at ten a.m., eager to begin with her new client.  
   "Hello David - I'm Amy Fowler, I'll be the physical therapist working with you to get you back up to par. May I call you David?"  
   "I actually prefer _Davy_ if you don't mind."  
   "Davy then. Primarily what we will be doing today is evaluating your strengths and weaknesses to determine what type of exercises will benefit you the most. I'll check your reflexes and have you do a few things to measure muscle tone and strength, range-of-motion and stamina. It's not uncommon for you to experience a little discomfort, but _pain_ is another matter, if it elevates your pain level you need to let me know, okay?"  
   "Yes."  
   They ran through a series of simple tests and hand-to-hand evaluations, with Amy making notations in his file.  
   "Alright, you're doing great. One more thing I want you to do and we'll be all through for today."  
   She led him deeper into the building to a set of workout machines, stopping in front of one in particular. Making some adjustments to the tension bands, she asked him to take a seat.  
   "This is a rowing machine. I've set the resistance to a fairly low level; I just want to see how long you can do this without feeling any pain. Do _not_ force yourself - no heroes allowed in here. If it begins to hurt, you stop."  
   "Gotcha," he grinned.  
   "Come back up front when you're finished."  
   "Yes Miss Fowler."  
   "Please Davy, call me Amy."  
   Back up front Amy called Tony into her office.  
   "Mr. Martinelli is it?"  
   "Yes, Tony, Please."  
   "Tony, Davy does need some work, but not a lot. He obviously was fairly athletic prior to his injuries and that did a lot to create a stable healing environment. He's lost a little muscle mass in his left arm and shoulder, but I'm certain he'll build it back up fairly quickly."  
   "Athletic is right, he's always on the move - swimming, tennis, volleyball - and he's a _gifted_ dancer."  
   "Is transportation a problem at all?"  
   "None whatsoever, we have three vehicles and live about fifteen minutes away."  
   "Wonderful. I'm going to work up a schedule for him before you leave."  
   "Miss Amy, I'm finished."  
   "Wow, you're quite the little dynamo! No _pain_?"  
   "No ma'am, just gotta bit winded."  
   "Okay. I was just telling your guardian that I think you'll do very well. I'd like to have you come in three days a week for two weeks, beginning Friday. I'm going to print out some directions for a few simple exercises that I want you to do at home on your off days, and you can take a break on Sundays."  
   "Alright, sounds great."  
   "Let me print these things out for you and we'll get you on your way."


	2. Chapter 2

   Back at home, the boys were in an excited dither. With Davy back in action they scanned the trade papers in search of a gig; and got an immediate hit.  
   "We have an audition a month from Saturday at Club Durango!"  
   "Really? Tha's _terrific_!"  
   "We're not the only group they're gonna see," Mike added, "So we need to choose a set list and start rehearsing right away."  
   "Could we do that a little _laytah_ Mike? I'm kinda tired, Therapy wore me out n I was hoping to take a short nap."  
   "Well, I reckon I don't need you to work up a set list Davy, so go on ahead."  
   "Want me to tuck you in little one?"  
   "Micky, I could really use your help with this."  
   "Thirty minutes Mike?” Davy pleaded, “I _promise_ I'll kick 'im out as soon as we're through."  
   "I suppose you two have waited long enough, but so help me Micky you better not fall asleep after."  
   "I won't fall asleep."  
   "Davy are you sure about that nap?" Tony asked, "I was going to spring for lunch?"  
   "Ooh lunch sounds great, but it's only eleven o'clock, maybe eat around one thirty?"  
   "If that's okay with everyone else."  
   "Alright by me, Mike and I had a late breakfast."  
   "I'm good too," Micky added, making his way toward the stairs.  
   "Alright, any preferences?"  
   "How 'bout that Coney island place that just opened up?"  
   "We had hot dogs last night Cotton."  
   "Mexican?"  
   "Ooh Micky, not sure I can deal with that ahftah last night."  
   "I could get pizza, or some fried chicken?"  
   "Pizza sounds good."  
   "I can do that."  
   "Extra cheese?"  
   "If you want, yes."  
   "Can we get mushrooms on half?"  
   "Done.  
   "Excellent, thanks Tony. Come here little one, there's something _else_ I'm hungry for first!"  
   "Well I've got something you can _fill up on_ babe."  
   " _ **PLEASE**_ , take it in the bedroom!"  
   "Sorry Tone."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Behind closed doors, they wasted no time shedding their clothes and crawling into bed, eager to touch and kiss, probe and pleasure. Walking him backwards, Micky inched Davy toward their bed, a devilish leer gleaming playfully in his eyes. Hands stroking the tanned skin of his chest, a gentle push was all it took to land the smaller man on his back as his legs met the edge of the mattress.  
   " _Perfect_ position," Micky grinned, using his best 'Big Bad Wolf' tone, "The better to _eat_ you with my dear."  
   Dropping to his knees he faced the throbbing, pink erection poised engarde before him. Holding the shaft reverently like a Muramatsu flute, Micky traced his tongue around the tip, playing in the stickiness accumulated there. Wetting his lips he slid his eager mouth down the length of Davy's cock, eliciting a grateful moan from above. Shifting his weight forward he placed his palms on the writhing hips beneath him. Eyes locked with his lovers Micky slid his tongue seductively back to the quivering head.  
   "Oh _God_ that's good," Davy groaned.  
   Stretching out the anticipation Micky planted teasing nips and kisses on the soft inside of Davy’s left thigh, his fingers trailing up and down his taut abdomen. Sparkly little tingles of excitement danced across his skin and he arched his hips upward aching for that special private kiss. Seizing an opportunity Micky slipped his hands beneath him, kneading the firm round behind that he so admired. His hot breath whispered over his balls as he brushed past to kiss and lick his way up the hardness that pleaded for his touch.  
   "More Micky, _please_?"  
   "I gotcha babe, don't you worry."  
   Taking him fully into his mouth he sucked him with a slow steady rhythm, his talented tongue stroking the sensitive tip with every stride. His fervor mounting, Davy tangled his hands in the tumble of curls atop his lover's head, guiding him in pace and depth to stoke the fire building in his groin.  
   "So _freaking_ good - _**please**_ don't stop!"  
   Micky took on a feverish tempo, flicks of his tongue sending jolts of pleasure as he sucked short smooth strokes on his lovers throbbing head. Probing a finger into his ass massaging his sweet-spot, he swallowed him to the hilt, driving him into the physical realm of divine madness.  
   Thrusting upward in an erotic craze, Davy crossed the threshold, spilling his nectar in a hot stream down Micky's consenting throat. Tortuously, Micky held him, sucking and licking a moment more, milking every drop of his strength until he begged for mercy, pleading to be released. With the last of his will, he scrambled back - away from the agonizing ecstasy - to collapse on the bed. Sweaty and panting, he bore a faint smile, his body and soul completely at peace.  
   Reaching into the nightstand drawer, Micky retrieved the bottle of lube, crawling toward him on the bed.  
   " _My_ turn little one," he said in a singsong lilt.  
   "After that luv," Davy breathed, "you can 'ave _anythin_ ' you want."  
   "On your knees babe."  
   Gripping the bars of the metal headboard Davy situated himself on all fours, his fanny pointing heavenward. As it has been some time since they were together, Micky probed a lubed finger into his rectum - then another - stretching the tightness that would soon envelop him. Satisfied with his efforts he slicked himself, sliding his rigid cock playfully along Davy's ass-crack.  
   "You ready cookie? This might hurt a little more than usual."  
   "It cahn't be _that_ much worse, we've been doin' it for _**FUCK** THAT HURTS_!"  
   Repressing a snicker, Micky held himself still, a phenomenal feat all things considered.  
   "You okay?"  
   "Bloody _hell_ , can I just _suck_ you orf?"  
   "What happened to _anything_ I want?"  
   "M'joking, just go slow okay?"  
   Easing his slim hips back he pressed in again gently, edging deeper with each thrust. In an easy rhythm he began rocking his hips, grinding tiny circles into the tight pucker that held him so firmly, stoking his fire with every squirm and squeeze.  
   "Damn Dave you're so _friggin'_ hot, **_shit_** you feel so good!"  
   " _Fuck_ me Micky, have your way!"  
   The slight encouragement was all he needed. His passion raging - his need alive - Micky abandoned caution, slamming against his lover with a rare fury. Sweat trickled down his face as he watched his cock piston in and out of his lover's ass in a lovely frenzied blur. Feeling every ridge and vein invade him, Davy moaned with a mixture of pleasure and pain.  
   " _Ugh fuck_ \- **_DAVY_** -"  
   Crying out his name, Micky came hard, pulsing a hot stream deep into the clutching chasm. With a final furious lunge, he tumbled over the edge, his body trembling from too much pleasure. Breathless, he lay against Davy's back, their hearts pounding in harmony. Fully sated they lay absorbing each other’s scent, lulled by the sound of each others breathing as if by the patter of a gentle rain. Finally, Micky moved to lie beside his diminutive lover, stroking his chest with tenderness, concern clouding his lovely eyes.  
   "Did I hurt you?"  
   "No Micky, you didn't, I'm alright."  
   "Promise?"  
   "Babe, we agreed a long time ago to always be straight with each other about this, I promised you then n m'not gonna break me word to ya now. You were great, easing me in."  
   "I love you Davy, I don't ever wanna cause you pain."  
   "I love you too. Though I don't wanna hurt you either, I'm afraid I _hafta_ tell you something …"  
   "What?" Micky asked, slight alarm in his expression.  
   "Getcher clothes on n get out," he grinned, "I promised Mike I'd send ya packing - no nap fer _you_ sunshine."  
   "Why you dirty rat!"  
   "Oh Micky, you've _gotta_ find a new impression babe."  
                                                                                      *****  
   At half past two, rested and well fed, Davy joined the boys on the bandstand for the first time in nearly two months. Enjoying his pizza leisurely, Tony relaxed on the sofa, eager as always to hear them play.  
   "Nothing like a little free entertainment with lunch," he quipped, "alright guys, _dazzle_ me."  
   They rolled through the first thirty minute set without any serious glitches, everyone playing as if they hadn't missed a day - let alone weeks of rehearsals. After a ten-minute break, they launched into set two - which didn’t go quite as smoothly. A few bars into their third song, Mike called a cut.  
   "Hold up a minute guys, that sounded like _shit_!"  
   "I'm sorry Michael; I don't know what was throwing me off."  
   "It wasn't _tha_ ’ bad Mike."  
   "Tiny look at Tony's face; another ten seconds and his _ears_ ’d start to bleed. That was horrible."  
   "Always the diplomat," Davy shot back.  
   "Micky what were _YOU_ playin'?"  
   "Sorry Mike, Peter was off and it threw me out of sync."  
   "I'm really sorry Micky."  
   "Davy?"  
   "Wha'?"  
   "Buddy your rhythm was all over the place - _what happened_?"  
   "No _way_ babe, I was _**tight**_."  
   " _I'll_ say," Micky grinned, drawing a scowl from Mike.  
   "I'm sorry Tiny, it’s almost like you were playing two different tunes man."  
   " _Tha’s_ a load of bullsh-"  
   "Why don't you all try this," Tony interjected, "run through twelve or so bars individually and maybe you can pinpoint the issue."  
   "That's a great idea. Davy we'll start with you."  
   "It's a bit 'ard to tap out a back beat on the tambourine with nothing to back up."  
   "I can play a soft melody on the keyboard if it'll help you Davy," Peter offered.  
   "Okay Petah, same song - whenevah yer ready."  
   Peter moved to the keyboard, immediately ringing out the opening notes to Pleasant Valley Sunday, with Davy coming in in perfect time. The melody began to tinkle softly, and gyrating his hips he eased into his usual beat, tambourine in motion against his wrist and thigh.  
   Everything was going smoothly - then something changed - and the whole sound went south. Davy lost his focus for just a second, putting him half a beat off tempo. In turn, Peter's sensitive ear picked it up, and skipped a few keys in a subconscious attempt to compensate, hitting a sour note in the process.  
   "Stop, _stop_ ," Mike called out, "I actually _SAW_ what happened just now. Tiny are you having a problem with that arm?"  
   "No m'not, why?"  
   "I caught that as well," Tony added, "almost like a microscopic spasm in his right forearm.”  
   "Good description, _exactly_ what I saw."  
   Glancing down Davy rotated his wrist, flexing his carpal radius muscle. Looking back at Mike, he offered a simple shrug.  
   "You're not having any pain or anything kiddo?"  
   "No, nothing. Besides it was me _left_ arm that was injured, not me right."  
   "Didja mebbe.. _overdo it_ upstairs?"  
   "He didn't even use his hands, I gave him-"  
   " _No **details**_ ," Tony blurted, " _PLEASE_!"  
   "I know," Davy brightened, snapping his fingers, "the _rowing_ machine!"  
   "Huh?"  
   "I'd completely forgot! At therapy today, she had him on a rowing machine for a good twenty minutes or so. I bet that’s what has his muscles so aggravated! Good thinking Davy."  
   "Well that explains a lot," Mike said, "add forty minutes of workin' that tambourine n _I'd_ be havin' a dadburned spasm too."  
   "Why not take a break and put some ice on that arm, or maybe a little liniment?"  
   "Might as well Tiny, we're not gonna get anywhere like this."  
   "I'm sorry fellas."  
   "It's not your fault Davy."  
   "Thanks Petah."  
   "He needs to work the muscle more so it gets past the freaking out stage," Micky grinned, "I _volunteer_ to help."  
   "That reminds me. Mike I have a favor to ask of you."  
   "What's that?"  
   "The physical therapist gave Davy some exercises to do at home on his off days, all but Sundays. If I give you the print-out for them, would you mind working with him three days a week?"  
   "Why him?" Micky pouted, "Why not _me_?"  
   "No offense amici but Mike here seems to be our resident sadist; I believe he can drive Davy a little harder to do what he needs to do."  
   Mike wore a prideful million-dollar smile, Peter a knowing grin.  
   "Ya know 'es right, you'd be lettin' me off the hook fer sexual _favors_."  
   "Ya well, I'd still find a way to work you out."  
   "I'd be right pleased to torture Tiny - uh I mean work him out."  
   "Thank you Mike," Tony grinned.  
   "So since rehearsal is off, how bout I exercise me arms by takin' a swim? Anybody care to come along n spot me?"  
   "I'll go," Peter said enthusiastically.  
   "Heck me too!"  
   "Easy shotgun," Mike turned to Micky, "it's _your_ turn to cook dinner."  
   "We just ate _lunch_!"  
   "Okay. Whatcha gonna make?"  
   "I'll make spaghetti."  
   "You _always_ make spaghetti."  
   "Nobody ever complains."  
   "Okay, _meat_ thawed out?"  
   "Umm no."  
   "We're out of pasta, when ya gonna go to the market?"  
   "Take me _ten_ minutes."  
   "We're out of your homemade sauce too ya know."  
   "Shit. _Shit_."  
   "Salad? Bread?"  
   Micky dropped his head, his chin practically scraping his chest.  
   "I'll supply the wine," Tony offered sympathetically.  
   "Lemme know how the water is Davy."  
   "Ya want me to stick around babe, 'elp with the cooking?"  
   "Naw, you go on ahead little one, no point in both of us being stuck in the house."  
   "Okay, I'll be back soon enough. Come on Petah."  
   "Okay, I just wanna grab my radio."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Out on the beach Peter and Davy sat on a blanket enjoying the unusually temperate weather, drying out in the late afternoon sun. Refreshed from a dip in the Pacific, they lounged about relaxing to some music, courtesy of Peter's old portable radio.  
   "Gee Davy I wish I tanned as easily as you do, all I do is _burn_ and get freckles."  
   "I've always 'ad good color, even as a kid I seemed to keep a tan year round. Maybe you should try some suntan oil?"  
   "Maybe. I'm afraid I'll wind up looking like a deep-fried prune - all burnt and wrinkly. I'd love to have the golden shine your skin has, you practically glow."  
   "My backside is so white it lights up the room when I drop me shorts," Davy laughed, "it _definitely_ slows."  
   "Oh no."  
   "S'not a bad thing, Micky rather _fancies_ the tan lines."  
   "No, _look_ ," he pointed beyond them.  
   Not fifteen feet away ambling towards them up the beach, came none other than Ben Worthington.  
   "Oh boy, _now_ I get it."  
   "Hey Peter, long time no see."  
   " _Rocket_ ," he greeted him stiffly.  
   Disregarding the cold welcome from his one-time friend, Rocket turned to Davy.  
   "I wanted to talk to you, wanted to see how you are."  
   Eyeing him warily, Davy nodded briefly.  
   "I'll survive, M'on the mend, coming along fine."  
   "Look, I know I'm not real popular around here, I just wanted to look in on you, and to tell you again how sorry I am for my involvement in what went down. I really am. I'll see you guys some other time."  
   Turning away, Ben walked back the way he'd come, head down - shoulders slumped in defeat. Watching him for a moment, Davy called after him.  
   "Hey _Rocket_."  
   Pausing, he turned with hope to look back.  
   "Thanks," Davy nodded.  
   A tiny smile spread across Ben's face as he turned and walked on, a slight bounce now in his step.  
   "Petah I-"  
   "Davy, Peter -” Mike called from the house, “c’mon up here.”  
   "We'd better go," Peter said, scooping up his radio, "Mike gets impatient very quickly."  
   "Petah wait a second, I …”  
   But the blond was already scrambling across the sand toward home.  
   Shaking as much of the beach from the blanket as possible, Davy followed suit, the smell of spaghetti leading him easily to his own back door.  
                                                                                      *****  
   Seated around the table everyone was salivating as the smell of Micky's famous Italian pasta sauce filled the house with a heavenly aroma. His great-grandmothers recipe, he'd been making it himself since he was five, a family tradition he intended to keep alive. Store-bought garlic rolls and a fresh salad rounded out the meal, and true to his word, Tony brought two chilled bottles of Cabernet to wash it all down.  
   "Oh my _God_ ," Davy exclaimed, "Micky I swear - it gets bettah _every_ time you make it!"  
   "I gotta agree shotgun, you knocked the horns offa the steer tonight."  
   "The salad is fabulous too Mick, interesting combination. I'd have never thought to use radicchio and mandarin oranges together, but with the feta and pine nuts the flavor simply _pops_!"  
   "The herb butter on the rolls is really delicious. _Everything_ is Micky."  
   "Wow guys, thanks a _lot_."  
   "Thank you," Peter said, "I wasn't sure I could eat after what happened out on the beach, but it all smelled so yummy my stomach stopped hurting."  
   Across the table, Davy suddenly started eating with a greater enthusiasm.  
   "What happened on the beach Cotton?"  
   "Rocket came over to Davy and me."  
   " _What_?"  
   " _Today_? What _happened_?"  
   "Did he _start_ sumthin with y'all?"  
   "Its alright you guys," Davy spoke up, "nothing bad 'appened. It was very unsettling fer Petah n well Ben just spoke 'is peace and went on 'is way."  
   "What did he say to you?"  
   "He ahsked me 'ow I was coming along n apologized for everythin' again."  
   "He was kind of hurt that we gave him the cold-shoulder, but Davy smoothed it all over," Peter smiled.  
   " _How_ ," Micky asked, irritated, "and for pity's sake **_WHY_**?"  
   "He just looked really dejected as he was leaving, so I called out to 'im n told 'im thanks."  
   "I love that you've got such a generous forgiving nature kiddo, but I'd rather you steer clear of Ben Worthington. I don't like him and I _don't_ trust him."  
   "S'not like I invited him to dinnah, I thanked him fer ahskin' after me. I _knew_ this was gonna go balls up!"  
   "I'm not scolding you Davy, just putting in my two cents worth. This isn't worth ruining a great meal over, and as you said, nothing happened."  
   "Did I mention that there's _dessert_?" Micky said, attempting to ease the tension.  
   "No, what is it?"  
   "I baked a cake."  
   Mike gave him a wry smirk from across the table.  
   "Okay I _BOUGHT_ a cake," he conceded, "but it's the thought that counts."


	3. Chapter 3

   Wednesday morning came to find three of the four Monkees up early, enjoying a leisurely breakfast and a stout pot of coffee. For the second day in a row, Micky was out of bed early and Davy had slept late. Nine forty-five rolled around and the tousle-headed Brit finally made an appearance on the stairs, sleep disheveled and sporting a cantankerous frown.  
   "Morning little one."  
   "Hey Tiny."  
   "Good morning Davy."  
   An irritated grunt his only response, Davy went straight for the coffee pot, emptying its contents into a mug. Staring down, he glared into the murky brew at the scant half-full cup.  
   "Fuckin' lovely, no coffee _AGAIN_."  
   "Well aren't we just a big ball of sunshine," Mike said sarcastically.  
   "Leave orf man!"  
   "Why not try asking nicely if someone will just make more?"  
   "I see you all ate breakfast without me too!" Davy shot back, ignoring Mike's advice, "what - I'm a _second class citizen_ now? Been nice if someone would've woke me up!"  
   "Babe mellow out. I don't get upset when you guys carry on without me when I sleep in; it’s not a personal slight it’s just life going on around us."  
   "At least when you sleep in I try to wake you or save you something to eat - but no - you're all thoughtless selfish _twits_ where I'm concerned, thanks fer nothing!"  
   "I'll make you some breakfast Davy," Peter chimed in, and some coffee too."  
   "The _hell_ you will!" Mike said, more than a little fired up, "he can cool his attitude or make his _own_ damn breakfast!"  
   "Oh I see, but let you get yer knickers in a knot and everyone fer _two miles_ is kissing your ass!"  
   Eyes blazing Mike was suddenly on his feet and towering over the littlest Monkee. Fearlessly, Davy stood his ground, glaring up at his personal Goliath defiantly.  
   "People _RESPECT_ me because I _**SHOW**_ respect! _YOU_ are just having an attitude problem and a temper tantrum! Whatchoo need is to have that ass busted like a _schoolboy_!"  
   "When you find somebody _BIG ENOUGH_ to try - lemme know!"  
   "You guys please don't fight!" Peter pleaded.  
   "Okay Davy," Micky attempted to intervene, "let's just go hang out somewhere else, just you n me."  
   "Wha' you think I cahn't ' _andle_ this? Well you can 'old Mike's hand while 'e bends ovah to _KISS ME ARSE_! Piss orf, the _lot_ of you!"  
   Crossing the house in a huff Davy stormed out the front door, slamming it as he went.  
   "One of these days I'm gonna get my hands on that mouthy lil brat n turn him over my knee!"  
   "I dunno what's going on with him lately,” Micky said, “he’s not been acting like himself. I'm gonna take a walk."  
   He left out the back door and crossing the sandy divide slipped into Tony's kitchen. There seated at the table was Davy, devouring a stack of flapjacks.  
   "Morning Micky, care for some breakfast?"  
   "Morning Tone, no thanks."  
   "Some coffee then?"  
   "Thanks man, I'm coffee'd out."  
   Rinsing his empty plate and refilling his coffee cup, Davy moved toward the front door.  
   "Thanks fer breakfast Tony, that hit the spot, coffee is excellent by the way. I'm gonna run. It's a little _crowded_ in 'ere."  
   "See you later kiddo."  
   Micky sighed.  
   "Trouble in paradise?"  
   "Not exactly, it's not _just_ about the two of us."  
   "What do you mean?"  
   "He's been, I dunno - out of _sorts_ \- just not himself these past few days."  
Micky went on to explain how things had gone the last few days and the blowout that had taken place just that morning. Tony assured him that it would pass, promising that he would speak to their tiny terror as soon as possible.

  A short time later, Tony saw Davy meandering slowly up the beach, coming to rest on a large boulder he seemed to favor when he had a lot on his mind. Not one to waste an opportunity, he headed out to speak to his temperamental young ward.  
Absorbed in his own thoughts Davy didn't hear Tony walking up from behind him. This place, where the ocean washed onto the breakers with a powerful tumble, soothed him - regardless of his troubles. Distracted by nature's beauty the soft touch on his shoulder startled him, and he nearly slid from his perch.  
   "Sorry kiddo, didn't mean to spook you."  
   "Wow Tony, wear a _bell_ will ya - I 'bout pissed meself!"  
   "I'll give that some thought," he said with a grin, "okay if I join you?"  
   "Alright with me, but I gather this _isn't_ a social visit?"  
   "Well not entirely, no. I'm always happy to spend time with you, you know that - but I need to talk to you. I hear you've been a little irritable these last few days. Anything I can help with?"  
   "I dunno, I guess maybe I've been a bit of a jerk. M'not really sure _why_ to be honest."  
   "Are you feeling unwell?"  
   "No."  
   “Are you angry with anyone at home kiddo?”  
   “No sir, not really.”  
   "Well it seems you're already aware that you've behaved inappropriately, now you need to make amends. You _really_ hurt the guy's feelings this morning; perhaps an apology is in order?"  
   "Yessir, I suppose you're right. I really didn't mean to be so terrible."  
   "Don't tell me kiddo, tell them."  
   Sighing deeply, Davy got to his feet.  
   "No sense putting it off I suppose, best just swallow me medicine. Mike's likely to knock my teeth out, but I suppose I've earned it."  
   "Would you like me to come along for support?"  
   "Fer _safety_ is more like it," he laughed, "Thanks Tony, I think I'll take my chances, they'll respect it more if I handle this on my own."  
   "Well good luck Davy, holler if you need me - or any emergency medical attention," he chuckled.  
   "See ya Tony, thanks again."

  Resolutely Davy marched back to the bungalow he shared with his bandmates, and drawing a deep breath, willed himself to walk in the bay doors. Micky sat on the backless couch thumbing through a magazine, while Mike sipped a cup of tea relaxing on the sofa. At his feet, Peter strummed his guitar, a folksy piece that he had picked up in the village a few years back.  
Nervous but determined, Davy stepped into the room, seating himself on the floor several feet behind Peter. His head lowered, he waited quietly for the bassist to finish his song.  
   "That was beautiful babe," Mike lauded, stroking his cheek, "play another one for me, please."  
   Seizing the brief silence, Davy took a shot.  
   " _Mike_ , fellas," he began in a tremulous voice, "could I talk to you fer a minit? _Please_?"  
   Noting that he had spoken respectfully and called him by name, Mike was pleased. His interest piqued he nodded silently.  
   "I - I want to apologize for the way I behaved this morning, for the way I _treated_ all of you. I honestly don't know what came ovah me; I was awful and hurtful! I'm so terribly sorry you guys, please - _please_ know that. Mike," he said to their fatherly leader, "I disrespected you: you don't deserve that. Petah, Micky.. I was rude and cruel to you both. I'm sorry for being so inconsiderate. I'm not expecting _anything_ in return, m'not even gonna hang round in 'ere. I'm gonna go up to my room and think about the things I've done. I just wanted you all to know that I feel really lousy fer how I treated you. If there is anythin' I can do to make it up to you fellas… "  
   Regaining his feet he backed away, and turning, he headed for the staircase. Before he made it three steps up, Mike was on his feet as well.  
   " **Davy**!"  
          (Bloody hell - _here it comes_ )  
   Without speaking he stopped, turning to face whatever retribution may come from the six foot Texan. He swallowed nervously as the thump of Mike's boot-heels on the floor drew nearer, step by step.  
   Standing face to face he bravely gazed up at his self-appointed triune - judge, jury and executioner - waiting for a verdict.  
   "Way to go Tiny," Mike said, extending his right hand, "I'm _very_ proud Davy. It takes real character to admit when you’re wrong, you're a good man."  
   Stunned and relieved, Davy shook hands with him, grateful to be able to grin with all of his teeth.  
   "Thanks Mike, that means a lot."  
   "Well ya did good. Now, haul your little ass up them steps n finish whatcha started."  
   "Sure Mike."  
   Mike watched as Davy ascended the stairs and closed himself in his bedroom. Turning to the others, he shook his head in wonder.  
   "Well I'll be dog _gone_."  
  
   After lunch, Mike collared Davy for his first home exercise routine - _Texas vs. Manchester_.  
   "Aww Mike I wanted to go to the beach with Micky this afternoon!"  
   "Not a chance shotgun, ya ain't goin anywhere less ya do your exercises."  
   "Oh _PLEASE_ man, I promise I'll do them as soon as we get back 'ome."  
   "Okay Tiny, you can go - just as soon as I turn you over my knee n _whoop_ that hind end."  
           ( _Texas 1 Manchester 0_ )  
   Twenty minutes later Tony came in to find Micky and Peter had vacated to the beach, leaving Mike to drill Davy in his home therapy. The scene he walked into was surprising to say the least, cackling with laughter Mike and Davy were rolling in the floor near to tears.  
   "Looks like I missed the punch line," Tony grinned, arms folded across his chest.  
   Pausing long enough to look from him to each other briefly, the two burst into another sputtering fit of hysterics.  
   "What's so funny, you guys swallow a feather?"  
   "M-Mike **_aa-ha-ha-ha_** -" Davy tried to speak, "erm, 'es tryin' to **_EEEHE-HE-HE_** \- to fix it so I can do these exercises."  
   Another burst of snickering accompanied by Mike smacking his palm on the rug.  
   "Okay," Tony cocked his head, "and that's so humorous in _what way_?"  
   "Oh gosh," Davy said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Some of them require hand weights of different sizes which we don't 'ave. So Mike 'ere decided to improvise."  
   "I still don't get the cackling."  
   "Well we're using soup cans and milk jugs half full of water n such -"  
   "- and Mike starts laughing and naming them things like - like **_He-he-he-hee_** "  
   "Like what?"  
   "The soup-can shuffle!" Mike snorted.  
   "Wait; wait -"Davy howled, "the milk jug _mambo_!"  
   This one brought a head-shaking knee-slapping belly laugh from his now chuckling cohort: Tony on the other hand was convinced that they had both lost their minds.  
   "I think I'm going to just go home and leave you two to this, I'm afraid it might be contagious."  
   As he opened the door to leave, Davy hollered excitedly.  
   "Tony wait -" he said, grabbing the broom, "the dust-mop dance!" He declared, briskly sweeping the floor.  
   Mike howled with laughter once more, clearly seeing the humor in this. Tony, with one eyebrow raised, backed outside and closed the door.  
                                                                                      *****  
   By the time Davy had finished his therapy, iced for twenty minutes and changed into his swim trunks, Micky and Peter were heading back home. It was Peter's turn to cook and he needed to go to the market, and Micky had a headache. Mike declined his invitation to join him so he wandered down to the beach alone eager for a swim. Dinnertime came and Davy had yet to return. A quick scan of the beach and a call to Tony turned up nothing.  
   "Dinner is getting cold and the roast is drying out," Peter moaned, "everything is gonna be _ruined_!"  
   "Now Cotton, it's not that bad, we'll just sit down and eat without him."  
   "But he's gonna get mad like he did this morning over breakfast."  
   "I don't think he will shotgun, but if he does you let _me_ handle it."  
   "Mikes right Big Pete, Davy knows what time we have dinner, he should’a been home on time," Micky added.  
   "If you guys are sure …”  
   "He can eat when he gets back; now let's get dinner on the table."  
   Ten minutes after the dishes were put away, a breathless Davy came bursting through the door.  
   "I'm sorry Petah, I _completely_ lost track of the time - I hope you didn't wait on me."  
   "As a matter of fact we already ate," Mike said snidely, "Peter worked very hard to make a nice meal and he was upset that it was dryin' out n gettin cold. We saved you a plate in the microwave, but you'll be washing your dishes when you're finished."  
   "I planned on it Mike, and I _said_ I was sorry. I didn't do it on _pur_ pose, I was 'aving a good time n got sidetracked is all."  
   "You need to give Tony a call; he's out _lookin_ for you."  
   "Wha' for? I'm a little late, _not_ missing!"  
   "Take it up with him."  
   "Bloody hell, cahn't be late fer dinnah without someone callin' out the _fuckin_ ' FBI!"  
   "Where you going?"  
   "Upstairs to take a shower."  
   "What about your supper?"  
   "M'not hungry anymore."  
   "Dammit Tiny come _back_ here!"  
   " _Bite_ me!"  
   Angered, Mike flew out of his seat racing after his pint-sized protagonist, who darted into his bedroom and quickly locked the door. Standing on the upstairs landing seething, Mike turned blazing eyes on Micky.  
   "So _HELP_ ME - I'm gonna turn him over my **_KNEE_**!"  
                                                                                      *****  
   Mike woke from a sound sleep feeling as if something was out of place in his quiet little world. Curled up next to him, Peter was sweetly adrift in dreamland, having a grand adventure at Disneyland if the smile on his face was any indicator.  
   The house was silent with no light seeping under the bedroom door, and no one appeared to be stirring above as the creaky floors and bedsprings were equally mute. Yet something drew him from a solid sleep at half past four, something alerting his keen senses that all was indeed not well. He slipped out of bed stuffing his pillow under Peter's left arm, filling the void left by his absence: A security blanket of sorts, enough to keep his needy one comforted until he returned.  
In the living room he paused, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the moon. Standing stock still the shrewd Texan turned sharp ears and eagle eyes on the downstairs of his home. Carefully scanning every inch of the open space he knew so well, he mentally searched for anything out-of-place. As his gaze passed the kitchen, two things caught his attention.  
           ( _Bingo_ )  
   On the counter next to the sink sat a glass - one that wasn’t there when he’d gone to bed - the last to retire as usual. Next to the glass was a can of coke, obviously cold, as condensation still beaded on the side. He walked to the kitchen to investigate further and in passing the bathroom, a faint sound stopped him in his tracks. Pressing an ear to the door, Mike listened intently, anxious to know what was happening on the other side. For a moment, nothing came of his efforts. Then just as he was about to step away, a low moaning drifted through the wood to reach his ears.  
           ( _Davy!_ )  
   "Tiny?" He said, tapping on the door. "Shotgun, are you okay?”  
   "Oh, Mike."  
   "Davy I'm coming in."  
   Without waiting for an answer, he eased open the door. There in the corner Davy sat on the floor, slumped against the wall beside the toilet.  
   " _Tiny_!" He cried, rushing to his friend, "What’sa matter?"  
   The sour smell struck him as he knelt down, and closing the lid of the commode, he flushed away the vomit that was befouling the air. Barefoot and wearing only his pajama pants, Davy lay against the wall pale-faced and trembling. Chocolate colored bangs were pasted to his forehead with a thin sheen of sweat that chilled his upper body. Gingerly, Mike brushed them to one side.  
   "What can I do to help?"  
   "W-wet washcloth, _p-please_."  
   Working quickly, Mike saturated a washrag in the basin, squeezing out the excess water. Very gently, he wiped the back of Davy's neck, his forehead and cheeks.  
   "Think you can get up with some help? Just sit down here on the commode?"  
   Still feeling puny, Davy nodded, reaching for Mikes extended hand. He stood for a moment on watery legs, still in Mike's sure grip, before pivoting slightly to sit on the toilets closed lid. Mike sat on the side of the bathtub opposite him, watching him waver unsteadily.  
   "What happened?"  
   "I came down fer a Coke cuz me stomach was upset. I managed to get a glass n grab a can from the fridge n had to dash into the bathroom. Made it just in time too."  
   Making the obligatory check for a fever, Mike put his wrist to Davy's cheek and forehead.  
   "Temperature is okay, do ya _feel_ sick?"  
   "Not really, just me stomach. Little shaky, but tha's it."  
   "Think you can walk to the couch? I'll help ya get there."  
   "I'll give it a go."  
   Supported by Mike's sturdy right arm Davy made his way to the living room, being deposited firmly on the love seat. Mike went into the kitchen, bringing him his coke to soothe his turbulent tummy.  
   "Are you cold Tiny? You're shakin' from head to toe!"  
   "N-no I'm not cold, j-just jittery."  
   "Are ya sure you're not feelin sick?" Mike asked again, reaching for his shoulder.  
Jerking away, Davy was up like a shot.  
   "D-don't _touch_ me, p-please!"  
   "What’sa matter with you Davy?"  
   "Just lemme alone Mike!" he said a little louder, taking a step backwards.  
   "Tiny what in _Sam Hill_ -"  
   "What's going on?" Peter asked sleepily from the bedroom doorway.  
   On hearing his voice, Davy’s head jerked to the left. Alarm in his eyes he backed against the wall, wrapping himself in a tight hug.  
   "Michael, what's the matter with him?"  
   "I'm not sure Cotton. You stay here with him, I'm gonna go get Micky!"  
   Taking the steps two at a time, he raced to the second floor bedroom. Not concerned with courtesy or modesty he flung open the door and flipped on the overhead light. Startled by the harsh glare Micky came awake, shielding his eyes and muttering about the intrusion.  
   "What the _hell_ Mike, what are you-"  
   "Get downstairs _NOW_ \- something is wrong with Davy!"  
   "Huh?!"  
   Fully alert and out of bed he followed Mike down the steps at a mad pace. They reached the front room to find Peter kneeling on the floor a few feet away from Davy, who was now crouching where Mike had left him moments before.  
   "Calm down Davy, it's just me, Peter. You know I would never hurt you - I just wanna try to _help_ you, make you feel _better_."  
   Wide-eyed and trembling Davy was drawn up tightly into himself, his gaze darting from one to the other of his roommates. Slowly Peter inched closer, reaching out a hand toward his frightened friend.  
   " _N-NO_!" Davy spat.  
   "Easy Peter," Mike warned.  
   "It’s okay Davy," Peter soothed, reaching for his hand.  
   Without warning, Davy sprang to his feet, his left leg coming out in defense like a bolt of lightning his kick connected squarely with Peter's chin. Caught off guard, the gentle man's head snapped up sharply. Tumbling backwards with incredible force he spun over once, slamming his head into the corner of the coffee table.  
   " ** _PETER_**!" Micky cried.  
   " _Good God COTTON_ \- are you alright?"  
   "I'm okay," he said, shaking his head a little, "don't be mad at Davy, he doesn't know what he's doing."  
   "Little one," Micky said, attempting to talk him down, "it's alright - it’s just me, it's _Micky_ \- can I just hold you?"  
   A loud keening wail came moaning up from deep within him, as he stared at them in a semi-circle around him. He began to rock his body, his breathing coming in harsh ragged pants.  
   "What's h _appening_ to him?" Micky asked fearfully.  
   "He's starting to hyperventilate! Peter quick, call Tony and get him over here now!"  
   "I've already called him Michael; he'll be here in a minute."  
   Moments later, Tony came rushing through the door and into the fray. Approaching the terrified, pale young man, he took careful measured steps.  
   "Davy, kiddo - what's wrong buddy?"  
   Faced with what his confused mind perceived as four large adversaries, Davy edged along the wall aiming for the door - and effectively backed himself into the corner instead. Turning in a panic, he clawed at the paneling seeking a means of escape - quickly bloodying his fingertips.  
   " ** _Damn_**!" Tony shouted, retrieving a hypodermic from his pocket, "You two," he directed Mike and Micky as he readied the injection, "get him by the arms and _hold him still_!"  
   Gingerly they stepped toward their battle-ready friend, attempting to grip onto him but to no avail. Fighting them off with all his strength Davy was verging on hysteria.  
   "You've _GOT_ to hold him down so I can get this into him - you aren't going to hurt him now _**GET IN THERE**_!"  
   Making a final brazen attempt they pinned Davy to the wall, getting a firm grip on both of his arms. Tony swept in quickly, and locking his upper body in a vise-like grip plunged the needle into his tricep, emptying the syringe of its contents.  
        Seconds later, Davy collapsed into his arms.  
   Gently and with great sadness, Tony carried him up to his bed, where Micky settled him in for a long rest.  
   Down in the kitchen Tony tended to Peters injured head, while Mike brewed a pot of strong coffee. When Micky came down, they sat in a dazed silence, sipping the stout brew and contemplating the bizarre scene that had unfolded a short time ago. Finally, Tony broke the reverie.  
   "Okay, someone please: help me piece together what happened here tonight."  
   "Well," Mike began it started like this here …"

  "So," Tony recapped, "he's been having issues for several days leading up to this then? Micky, you sleep next to him; does he seem to be having any nightmares or anything?"  
   "Not that I've noticed, and he hasn't _mentioned_ it to me."  
   "His appetite is fluctuating and he's been vomiting but no fever, irritable and moody.. I don't know."  
   "Sounds like he's _pregnant_ ," Micky chuckled, humor his best defense when overwhelmed.  
   "Well this morning he had a full blown panic attack, so there's definitely _something_ going on with him."  
   "Could it be a residual effect from his brain injury?"  
   "That's a great question Mike. Dr. Bowen said everything was normal neurologically speaking, but perhaps a fresh CT scan is in order. I'll give him a call later today and see what he thinks."  
   "What did you hit Davy with anyway Tone - I've never seen anybody _drop_ like that before!"  
   "Lorazepam: It’s generally used for insomnia in mild doses. In a mental health setting however it's used at higher levels to control manic and high-anxiety patients in an emergency situation."  
   "Just how do you _know_ all of that - and how is it you happen to have _psychiatric drugs and needles_ at your disposal?"  
   "Relax Mike, I'm not a terrorist or an evil maniac - I'm a fully trained and licensed paramedic. _Almost_ went to medical school, but life had other plans."  
   "No kidding! I'm _very_ much impressed! Why don't you do the job?"  
   "Long story, definitely meant for another day. Like I said, my life was meant to take a different path."  
   "So how long will he be knocked out?"  
   "Honestly it varies from person to person. With his weight and metabolism and the fury of his attack, my guess would be about six hours. Could be anywhere from five to twelve hours truth be told."  
   "I feel so bad that I couldn't help him," Peter said solemnly, "I really thought I'd be able to calm him down."  
   "Peter, if anyone could have reached him I'm _certain_ it would've been you. The state he was in my friend, he was beyond getting through to."  
   "I dunno about y'all, but I need to go back to bed. I'm plum tuckered."  
   "Be a good idea for everyone to try and get some sleep, there's no way of knowing what condition Davy will be in when he wakes up. Don't hesitate to call me if you need me, I'll be over later to look in on all of you."  
   "Thanks for all your help Tony."  
   "Any time."  
   "C'mon Peter, let's get some sleep."  
   "Later guys, and Mike - thanks a _lot_ man."  
   "I love Tiny Mick, of course I'd be there for him, but I still wanna turn him over my knee, the ornery lil _cuss_."


	4. Chapter 4

   Davy slept quietly wrapped in Micky's arms until late in the morning. When he finally began to stir, Micky's radar was up in an instant. Immediately alert, he experienced the unique pleasure of watching his little one come awake: First he wriggled his body, looking much like a cherubic child in the midst of a pleasant dream. Stretching his wiry frame in a feline posture, he arched his back - a tiny yawn drawing plump lips momentarily apart - his tongue flashing out to moisten their sleep-dried surface.  
   Turning his head slightly he raised a fist to rub the sleep grains from the corners of his eyes, bringing an amused grin to his lovers lips. Chin resting on one palm, Micky watched mesmerized as Davy's long, lush eyelashes fluttered, the lids sliding back to reveal the honey-brown eyes he so easily got lost in.  
   "Morning gorgeous."  
   "Hi there."  
   "But _damn_ you're something to look at. I could lay here all day and just watch you sleep."  
   "Kinda hard to do now that I'm awake n all," he smiled.  
   "Well since you are, I can lay here and _kiss_ you instead."  
   "Well then, wha's 'oldin you back?"  
   "Come here little one."  
   Drawing him closer, Micky embraced him firmly but tenderly, laying feathery kisses on his welcoming lips. His right hand pressing on his back, he urged him closer against him, their bodies melding together at every interval. A twinge of warmth tingled between his legs as Davy brushed his tongue across his lower lip, a teasing quest for Micky to delve into his lover’s waiting mouth. Eager fingers worked the buttons on his pajama shirt as his own roving hands gripped the firm contours of Davy's perfect ass.  
   An appreciative moan gurgled into his mouth as involuntary he ground his hips forward, forcing their hard-ons to rub against each other, small hands shooting up to tangle in his hair.  
   "Less clothes, _now_ please," Davy whispered mischievously.  
   "Oh baby, yes!"  
   Their enthusiasm was suddenly quelled by a sharp knock on the bedroom door.  
   " **NOT RIGHT NOW**!" Micky called.  
   "It's Tony. I need to see Davy downstairs - right now."  
   "Aww c'mon Tony please - cahn't it wait fer _FIVE_ minutes?"  
   " _TEN_ minutes!" Micky countered.  
   "No, come down now please, both of you."  
   A series of indistinguishable expletives from inside the room followed Tony down the steps, where he waited in the kitchen for the disgruntled lovebirds.

  Two minutes passed and the boys finally made an appearance, sour grapes and scowls for the whole group gathered at the table.  
   "I'm very sorry to have disturbed your morning _revelry_ ," Tony said bluntly, "but I felt that this meeting took precedence; _do_ forgive me."  
   "This'd bettah be good," Davy barked, "I'm _not_ a happy guy right now."  
   "My apologies to the little general," Tony saluted, "but this _is_ rather serious, have a seat gentlemen."  
   "I made coffee and tea," Peter spoke up, "do either of you want anything?"  
   "What I _want_ -" Davy began to balk.  
   "Keep it outside of the sheets kiddo," Tony advised.  
   "Coffee," Micky said, clamping a hand over Davy's mouth, "for _both_ of us."  
   "Alright," Davy groused, giving Micky a sideways glare, "wha's the big emergency?"  
   "How did you sleep last night kiddo?"  
   Davy stared blankly at his benefactor, struggling to hold his temper in check.  
   "Here ya go, two coffees, more tea for you Mike and a refill for Tony."  
   "Thank you Peter."  
   "Thanks shotgun."  
   "My pleasure."  
   "D'you mean to tell me you interrupted _GREAT_ wake-up sex to drag me down 'ere n ahsk me 'ow I **slept**?"  
   "Humor me Davy, would you please?"  
   Looking at the others in disbelief, he ducked his head for a moment, gathering himself together.  
   "Alright, I slept like a _baby_. I didn't wake up to **piss** lahst night - m'not sure I even _rolled ovah in my sleep_! **_NOW_** can I go upstairs n finish me business?"  
   "Not so fast. Anyone here care to _counter_ Davy's statement?"  
   Three hands, including Tony's, flew straight up in the air - the fourth a bit slower and somewhat timidly.  
   "Wha's all _this_?"  
   "Since the beginning is the best place to start, Mike why don't you open things up. Everyone can fit the pieces in as they come into the picture."  
   "Well Tiny, it's like this…"  
   Davy listened in stunned silence as the story unfolded over the next thirty minutes, each of the four adding details as the chapter progressed. Unable to fathom what he was hearing, he sat staring at the table, waiting for the saga to end. When they had finished, he sat quietly thoughtful. Looking at Tony, he finally spoke.  
   "I'm not sure _why_ , but you **must** be 'aving me on. I'd remember _doing_ all those things - I know I would - n I'd _nevah_ hurt Petah fer anythin' in the world."  
   "I'm sorry kiddo, its all true. Every bit of it happened."  
   "Prove it."  
   "Okay, let's start with Peter's head injury. Peter - come over here if you will."  
   Reluctantly, Davy examined the tiny cut on the back of his bandmates head, and the purplish bruise beneath his chin where Davy had kicked him earlier that day.  
   "Okay, 'es hurt. Doesn't mean that _I'm_ responsible."  
   "Alright, the bruises on your arms. How did you get them last night Davy?"  
   Looking down, he was shocked to see fingerprint shaped marks in blue and green hues dotting both of his forearms. With no explanation he grasped at the only straw he could, knowing it was crap before it came out of his mouth.  
   "I must've done it doin’ my exercises yesterday with Mike"  
   "Alright Davy, it's a load of _bunk_ \- but I'll let you have that one anyway. I have three more for you that you cannot deny in _any_ way whatsoever."  
   "Go ahead n try," he said more confidently than he was feeling.  
   "Explain the needle mark on your left arm - and this empty syringe still in my pocket."  
   Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out the empty needle, laying it on the table in front of him. With large, frightened eyes, Davy stared at it, rubbing the pinprick below his shoulder.  
   "Now look lastly at your hands. The blood is _still_ there - dried to your fingertips where it sat when you collapsed in my arms - after digging at the wall with your bare hands. Explain _that_ away. Explain the bloody prints on the wall."  
   Suddenly pale, Davy began to tremble once more. The realization of what had occurred settling into him had him reeling, unsure of what was happening in his own mind.  
   "Listen to me Davy," Tony said in a commanding tone, "do **_NOT_** check out on me! This is _not_ uncommon, and you're **not** losing your mind. You had a panic attack - what we don't know at this point is why. Are you still with me kiddo?"  
   A bit calmer, Davy nodded slowly, trying to comprehend what Tony was telling him.  
   "It's _not_ a disease, it _is_ treatable and it happens to a _lot_ of other people."  
   "How do I stop it from 'appening again?" He asked timidly.  
   "Well, there are a number of ways to manage anxiety; the key is to eliminate the cause. Until we determine what that is, looking for signs that your stress levels are building is an important step in curtailing further attacks."  
   "You mean like when he's gettin _real_ ornery?"  
   "Or if he's sick to his stomach?"  
   "Those appear to be two huge precepts to him becoming overly anxious, yes. I think it may help you to go and talk to someone - a professional. Talk out some of your stressors."  
   "You mean a _bloody 'ead shrink_?"  
   "Aaand he's _**back**_!" Micky grinned.  
   "A psychiatrist or psychologist, yes; nothing wrong with that.”  
   "Tiny, lots of folks go talk to a psychiatrist; it doesn't mean that they're crazy, it means they're _sane_ enough to ask for help."  
   "It's just like having someone really smart to talk about your problems with, nothing to it little one."  
   "All I'm asking you to do is give it a try kiddo, a couple of visits and maybe something to calm your nerves till we figure this all out."  
   "I guess I can give it a chance, but I'll bloody move back to _England_ before anybody gets any wild ideas about lockin' me up in a padded white room!"  
   " _Good Lord_ Davy," Tony laughed, "you've been watching too much late-night television. Modern mental health care is about keeping the patient involved in society, living a normal life. Straight jackets and padded rooms are _rarely_ used and are generally reserved for the criminally insane. I'd say you're relatively safe there kiddo."  
   "Alright, I'll do it. But no pulling strings on me okay - _everything_ on the table."  
   "You have my word Davy. I'll call and make an appointment. Meanwhile, let's try switching you to decaf."  
                                                                                      *****  
   For much of the afternoon, Davy stayed closed up in his room, upset and worrying. Uncharacteristically skipping lunch, he chose instead to sit on the upstairs balcony sipping tea, even refusing Micky's invitation for an afternoon swim.  
In spite of drinking herbal tea he found himself rather jittery, fidgeting in the deck chair, his body trembling for no apparent reason. Bored silly but eager to avoid his roommates, he decided a lengthy nap was in order. Settling into the pillows, he was just nodding off when Micky came into the room.  
   "Hey Dave, you goin to sleep?"  
   "Well, I _WAS_."  
   "Oh," he said in a softer tone, " _sorry_ babe."  
   Energized from a refreshing swim, Micky was anything but tired. Moving around the room, he tinkered and touched, rattled,  rustled and otherwise noise-made in every corner of the small space much to Davy's irritation. Finally settled down at the desk, he decided to work on one of his many unfinished projects: A combination automatic potato peeler slash dust buster hand-vac.  
   The idea was to cut down on the time and effort that went into peeling large amounts of potatoes while sucking up the mess at the same time. The concept was great, but something was wrong with the mechanics: all he'd managed to do so far is mangle the raw potatoes, flinging chunks everywhere. Intending to make some minor adjustments, he grabbed the electric screwdriver from the bottom drawer. Applying the tip to the 'Taternaters' torque screw, he hit the power button. A shrill piercing grinding squeal shattered the quiet calm, nearly sending Davy through the bars of the headboard.  
   "Are you _**insane**_??" He roared, sitting stiffly upright in the bed, "ya nearly gave me a _heart_ attack!"  
   "I'm sorry little one, I _thought_ I'd set it in reverse - it stripped the head of the screw."  
   "Cahn't you do something _else_? Something that doesn't require _power tool_ s?"  
   "Wanna play cards?"  
   "I _want_ to take a nap!"  
   "I'll let you win."  
   " **Micky**!"  
   "Alright, okay. How bout I come over there and.. _tuck_ you in?"  
   "M'not in the mood."  
   "Boy you _are_ cranky. Can I lay down with you?"  
   "Can you lie still and shut up?"  
   "Yaa, I think so."  
   "Come on then, but I'm going to _SLEEP_ , understand?"  
   "Yaa, yaa. Party pooper."  
   Micky shed his jacket and crawled in next to his testy little lover, curling up on his side attempting to get comfortable.  
   " _Bloody **fuck**_ Micky!"  
   "What?"  
   "Yer flippin' _feet_ are like _**ice blocks**_!"  
   "I know a great way to-"  
   You've a one-track mind d'you _know_ that?"  
   "I can't help it Davy, you're so _freaking ho_ t it's hard to think about anything else around you."  
   "Point earned," he smiled behind him, "but I'm s _till_ gonna take a nap, handsome."  
   "I love you too cookie."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Dinnertime came and went with nothing on the table - _or_ the stovetop. Out on the beach with Peter, Mike's rumbling stomach alerted him that it was well past chow time, and nobody had called them up for supper.  
   "Michael I'm getting hungry, is it almost time for dinner?"  
   "It's way past dinner time shotgun, and someone's asleep at the wheel - _literally_ I'd bet. Come on babe; let's go see what's going on."  
   Walking back to the house they ran into Tony, who had been watering his early tomato plants on his back deck. Noting the disgruntled look on Mike's face, he decided to ask a few casual questions.  
   "Evening guys. I'm surprised to see you out here this time of day, aren't you usually having dinner about now?"  
   " _USUALLY_ , yes," Mike grumbled, "I believe the cook is still in conference with Morpheus though. I'm fixin' to put a boot up his behind."  
   "If my calculations are correct, that would be our little Englishman, _correct_?"  
   "Yep, it's his turn tonight. Got a feeling it's gonna be cold sandwiches and potato chips - but I'll be having his _ass_ for dessert you can bet on it!"  
   "Would you do something for me Mike? If he _did_ manage to bungle dinner tonight, could you find it in you to cut him some slack this time?"  
   "Why is that?"  
   "I have a feeling that something more is bubbling under the surface, emotionally speaking, than Davy is letting on - some sleep problems or nightmares - something that's causing whatever is happening in his head. If he _has_ slept all afternoon, he obviously needed the rest. I'll spring for a nice meal, whatever you're hungry for. I just don't want to add any more stress than necessary until we know what his issues are."  
   "I can appreciate that, and you don't need to buy us dinner man, we'll figure sumthin else out."  
   "I don't mind, really. I have been so wrapped up with my gardening I’ve forgotten to eat supper myself. What do you say, char-broiled rib eyes or cold ham sandwiches?"  
   "When you put it like **_THAT_** you're a hard man to argue with. Saturday night though I'm makin' supper n you'll be eating with us - _I insist_ \- just tell me whatcha wanna have and it'll be on the table."  
   "It's a deal."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Once again, Davy and Micky were cuddling when Tony came to knock on the door. Irritated, Davy flung the door open clad only in his BVDs.  
   "You've gotta have the most _impeccably **lousy**_ timing of anybody I know d'you know that?"  
   Sashaying back to sit on the end of the bed he pounced down, drawing one knee to his chest.  
   "Wha' now? Tell me I didn't get _stupid_ again in my sleep?"  
   "No, not exactly. You did sleep though, straight on through your night to cook dinner."  
   " _Bloomin_ hell!" He declared, falling back on the bed, one hand smacking his forehead.  
   "Never fear my dear boy; I'm craving meat in a _huge_ way tonight, so I'm buying take-out. I just wanted to know how you two want your rib eyes and what two sides."  
   "From _Mastros_?"  
   "Yes Micky, from Mastros."  
   "I freaking **LOVE** that place! _Marry me_?"  
   " _ **Hey**_!" Davy objected.  
   "Just kidding babe."  
   "Quickly gentleman, people are wasting away downstairs. Poor Peter is resorting to chewing on the checkers."  
   "Medium well with a side salad and corn on the cob."  
   "Well done with a baked sweet potato and a salad."  
   "Dessert?"  
   " _Praline pecan pie_!" They said in unison.  
   "Like I needed to ask," Tony chuckled. "Shouldn't be more than forty minutes. If your door is closed when the food comes I'm not coming to get you, so if you're going to.. _frolic_ \- I suggest you do it quickly."  
   "Wha?! Butcha can come knockin' when we're in the _middlmmphh_ -"  
   "We'll be ready when dinner gets here," Micky grinned, his hand covering Davy’s mouth once more.  
   "Okay, we'll see."  
   "Will ya _cut_ tha'out!" Davy griped when Tony had closed the door.  
   "I'm sorry, but your mouth has been working overtime lately, I don't want you getting grounded from using it. You use it.. _so well_."  
   "Hmm."  
   "Where were we?"  
   "You were just about to shine my knob fer me," Davy grinned wickedly.  
   "Ohhh no no, that was _yesterday_ cookie. If anybody's getting on their knees today, it's **_you_** little one."  
   "If I recall correctly, I _WAS_ on my knees - you nearly sent me through the headboard with yer eager hips!"  
   "Okay, so you suck me off and then I'll let you have whatever **_YOU_** want. _Fair_?"  
   "It _SOUNDS_ good, but we'll nevah get through all of that in thirty-six minutes."  
   "So do me now, and after dinner you can fuck my brains out."  
   "Ahftah dinnah I won't be able to _move_! _**Not 'appening**_."  
   "Shit."  
   "So now what,"  
   "Could do a sixty-nine?"  
   "Or we could wait till tonight since we slept all ahftahnoon and work off all that food?"  
   "Swap quick hand jobs?"  
   "Meet me in the shower."  
   "I'm already halfway there."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Down in the living room Mike sat tinkering with a tune on his guitar while Peter busied himself setting the table for dinner. The serene atmosphere was abruptly shattered when the upstairs bedroom door flew open, its occupants storming down the steps in a vocal uproar.  
   "C'mon Davy I _said_ I was sorry."  
   "Oh yer real _friggin_ ' sorry alright, _**beg off**_ Dolenz!"  
   "I'm telling you it was an accident, I just wasn't paying attention!"  
   "Yaa fine - then ya all but _piss_ yerself laughing about it; get outta my space before this gets _nahsty_!”  
   "What in the world-"  
   "One **_FUCKING_** word about this n so 'elp me Micky I **will** get even with you!"  
   "I'm not gonna say anything but _you're_ the one that brought this argument downstairs cookie."  
   "I'm trying to get away from you! _Stop_ following me - and stop **talking** to me while yer at it!"  
   "What'd you do Micky, break his pecker? He's madder than a wet hen!" Mike teased.  
   "Mind yer own business _you_!" Davy snapped.  
   "Oh _shit_!" Micky breathed.  
   "Michael don't, _please_ ," Peter pleaded.  
   "You mouthy _obnoxious_ little cuss!" He said, setting his guitar aside, "just who d'you think you are to talk to **anybody** like that?!  
   "Nobody you wanna piss off!"  
   "Umm Davy-"  
   "You looking for a little piece of _Texas_ shotgun?"  
   "You want a _Manchestah Kiss_ you **shit kicker**?"  
   "What the hell is going on in here?" Tony demanded from the front door.  
   "Your boy is about to git his _ass_ whooped that's what!" Mike said, struggling to reach past Peter and Micky, "I'm fixing to shut his mouth up for him!"  
   "Fuck off Mike, ya don't _scare_ me!"  
   "Davy; _enough_!” Tony ordered, "Neutral corners, _**both**_ of you!"  
   With Micky and Peter's assistance, Tony managed to corral Mike in the living room, cornering Davy in the kitchen, looking for an explanation. Without going into specifics, Davy admitted to being upset with Micky, taking it out on Mike's good-natured, ill-timed humor.  
   "If it wasn't a big deal, why won't you tell me what the argument was about?"  
   "Forget it, _not_ gonna happen."  
   "Fine, have it your way. Micky can I see you please?"  
   "I'm _warning_ you Micky -"  
   "Put a lid on it kiddo - either you tell me or I'll get it out of him. "  
   "This is bloody _bullshit_!"  
   "Micky?"  
   "Alright but my blood will be on _your_ hands. We were in the shower trying to get a quickie in before dinner; just, ya know swapping out hand jobs. I wasn't paying attention and I grabbed what I _THOUGHT_ was a tube of lube to use on him only it wasn't lube.. it was **_muscle rub_**. Bout set him on _fire_."  
   " _ **EEEE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HEEE**_!” Mike cackled with glee, "Oh my _GOD_ I'd have **PAID** to see the look on his face!"  
   "Come over 'ere n get a good look _arse_ 'ole as its smashin into yer nose!"  
   Still laughing hysterically, Mike was having too much fun to even take the bait.  
   "David that'll _do_! Now, first things first: Did you manage to.. _fix_ the situation?"  
   "It took a good twenty minutes or so but we washed it all off."  
   "Are you hurt or in any pain Davy? I've probably got some burn cream if you need it."  
   "No way man, m'not putting _anything_ else near my junk, for _get_ it!"  
   "Okay, so to create a reasonable environment conducive to good digestion, I'm going to _have_ to send you up to your room with your dinner."  
   "Why _me_?"  
  "Because I don't have the authority to send Mike or Micky to _theirs_. I'm sorry Davy, I'm sure this isn't _entirely_ your responsibility, but it's the most logical solution to ending the fuss."  
   "Tony don't send him up there alone," Micky said, " _I'll_ go upstairs. Let him eat with the family."  
   "Very generous of you. Doesn't solve the problem between Davy and _Mike_."  
   "Just forget it," Davy grumbled, "I don't even care. I'm not even freaking hungry anymore!"  
   "Cool down shotgun let's hold on a minute," Mike stepped in, "Look Tiny I'm _sorry_ I laughed at your predicament, and I shouldn't have stuck my nose in it in the first place. Can we call a truce and sit down to supper all _peaceful_ like?"  
   Still miffed Davy considered the options. He didn't want to cave in, but the smell of the steaks was taunting his nose - his stomach, traitor that it was, rumbled its two-cents worth from below. Mouth suddenly watering he made up his mind.  
   "Okay, truce."  
   Properly sealing a gentlemens' treaty with a handshake, he turned a cool eye on his boyfriend, _The Ben-Gay Bandit_ , and considered his pouty face for a moment.  
   "As fer _you_ ," Davy said, still dealing with the cool burning in his nether regions, "I'll drop the argument and sit down to dinnah - but I'm sitting _ACROSS_ the table from you. I don't want you getting mixed up again and putting shaving cream on my pie instead of cool whip."  
   Tony, Mike and Peter fought to keep the tiny grins that played around the corners of their mouths from slipping away from them, becoming full-blown chuckles, snorts and guffaws. Davy brought the drinks to the table, taking a seat on the opposite side of Tony beside Peter. Seated across from him, Micky wore a dejected look, attempting to change his mind.  
   "Save it slick," Davy muttered, buttering his sweet potato, "just eat yer food n stop tryin to give me the guilties. It's _not_ gonna work."  
   "Are you _sure_?" Micky asked playfully, "I could cry, hold my breath, beg on my knees - whatever you think will do the trick. It feels so _empty_ over here."  
   "Get a _**dog**_."  
   "Or," Mike snickered, "you could always put the tube of _Ben Gay_ in his chair."  
   "Funny Mike, real cute."  
   "At least it wasn't the rubber cement like that time Mi-"  
   "Peter your foods gonna get cold," Mike interrupted, "you know how you _HATE_ cold food."  
   "Wha' happened with Mike n the rubbah cement Petah?" Davy grinned, now curious.  
   "He wasn't saying Mike he said my - like my sister. Yaa. _His sister_. Pass the hot sauce there will ya Micky?"  
   "Peter doesn't have any sisters," Micky pointed out.  
   "I swear dinner over here _always_ includes free entertainment," Tony piped in, "my apologies Mike but I'm too intrigued to stop myself. Tell us Peter, what's the story with the rubber cement?"  
   "I.. _HIC_.. _HIC ..._ "  
   "Might as well forget about it Tone, he's too scared to tell it now."  
   "Every time Petah gets really scared 'e gets the-"  
   " _HIC_ "  
   " ... Hiccups."  
   "Why are you scared Peter?"  
   " _HIC_.. _HIC_.. _HIC ..._ "  
   "Cuz he thinks I'm gonna be mad if he tells y'all about the rubber cement," Mike said, dropping his fork on his plate, "It's okay Peter, I'm not gonna get mad at you shotgun. It _IS_ funny lookin back at it. " he grinned.  
   "You okay now Pete?"  
   "Yes I'm _much_ better Micky thanks."  
   " _Wow_ ," Tony said, amazed at his recovery.  
   "S'come on," Davy said with a mouthful of rib eye, " _SOMEBODY_ tell us wha' 'appened!"  
   "Oh God," Mike sighed, "okay, it was back when Cotton and I first started seeing each other, before we got to doin a whole lot in the bedroom yet. At that point, we mostly did for ourselves in _front_ of each other and at the time, money was _REALLY_ tight. I'd bought the rubber cement to make a repair on my old guitar and left the tube on the nightstand like an idiot. That night we went to doin our thing and Peter had picked up the lube already - well I reach over to use it and grab the only tube sitting there - the _rubber cement_. Didn't bother lookin at it - _nope_ \- too busy watching Cotton here do his thing, so I squeeze it into my hand and start goin _to town_."  
   "You're _not_ serious!"  
   "Don't interrupt, I've gotta know wha' happens next!"  
   "Well about five minutes passed and I notice it's getting harder to.. move my hand. All of a sudden I let out a yelp that'd wake the dead in Tokyo - cuz I realize my hand is seriously **_STUCK_** to my dick!"  
   "At first," Peter spoke up, "when I heard him howling I thought he was feeling _really_ good, Michael can be _**very**_ vocal. But then he starts cussing and yelling ' _DAMN IT PETER IM_ **STUCK**!' - and I knew something was wrong."  
   "How did you get out of that mess?"  
   "Well first of all y'all should know that Good Ol Peter here proceeded to finish his own hand job before he done a dadblamed _thing_ to help me!"  
   "But I was so close," Peter said innocently.  
   Tony, Micky and Davy burst into uproarious peals of uncontrollable laughter, particles of salad, potato and steak spraying into their plates. Mike waited patiently for the hysteria to die down, calmly forking in the last of his steak.  
   "Are y'all _finished_? Okay then. When I finally got his attention we tried everything from soap and water to lemon juice, and by God _nothing_ would loosen that shit up! Peter had to chase around LA County for five hours looking for a special solvent made just for dissolving this glue. He finally found a twenty-four hour drug store that had some. You should've seen me walkin all bent in half, hand stuck to my crotch running through the living room _naked_ to go take a piss - _praying_ that Micky wouldn't come home with a date!"  
   "Oh my God I'd have **PAID** to see all of this going on," Davy laughed, "and _you_ were laughing at _**me**_?"  
   "That's just it Tiny, I could laugh because I've _been_ there."  
   "If I'd known about this beforehand, it probably wouldn't have pissed me orf so much when you did."  
   "Unfortunately kiddo we aren't always privy to all the answers, so sometimes it's better to just find the humor in life and go on."  
   "So wha' would you do if someone put muscle rub on _yer_ johnson?"  
   "Before or after I called them an ambulance?"  
   "Why would you call them ambulance if it's your junk that’s on fire?"  
   "Because when I was finished with them, they'd need medical attention."  
   " _I rest my case._ " Davy grinned.  
   "I _said_ I was sorry."  
   "I know, _several_ times."  
   "C'mon Davy, how can I make it up to you? I _hate_ it when you're mad at me."  
   "I have an idea," Mike said with a mischievous grin.  
   "Wha's that?"  
   "He could put the muscle rub on his _own_ -"  
   " **ARE YOU CRAZY**?!" Micky shouted.  
   "Interesting," Davy nodded, "but that _could_ be a problem if we go at it laytah."  
   "Whew!"  
   "Blow jobs for a week," Peter volunteered.  
   "We're gettin warmer, 'ow bout you Tony - _you_ got any brilliant ideas?"  
   "I'm sure I could come up with some fairly reasonable and sadistic means of making things even; however I feel a certain _indebtedness_ to our Micky, so I’m going to plead the fifth on this one.”  
   "God _bless_ you!" Micky smiled.  
   Snapping his fingers, Davy's face lit up with malicious glee.  
   "I've got it! You wanna make it right - give me yer _dessert_."  
   "My _**PIE**_??"  
   "Yer pie or we can go upstairs and find the Ben Gay."  
   ".. How long will you give me to think it over?"  
   "Tell you what, I'm gonna eat _my_ dessert, when I'm finished - I expect an ahnsah."  
   With Micky's full attention, Davy opened the styrofoam carton containing his pie, turning it sideways to be sure that his captive audience had a perfect view. Stifling a grin, Davy was pleased to hear the breathy ' _OHH_ ' from across the table, in spite of Micky's whispery enunciation of the syllable.  
   Making a grand show of things, Davy licked his lips in anticipation, eyeing the decadent dessert like a virgin boy looking at is first nudie magazine - eyes gleaming - desire and wonder evident in their brown depths. Peeling back the lid on the cool whip, he scooped out two generous tablespoons of the thick creamy topping onto the moist brown-sugary wedge. With a salacious swipe of his tongue he licked the spoon, head slightly lowered - eyes boring into those of his lover's.  
   Entirely too amused to bother with their own desserts, the others watched the torturous scene their youngest was performing for the benefit of a certain Italian drummer, taking entirely too much pleasure from watching him squirm.  
Dipping his fork into the foodgasm before him, Davy brought the first luscious bite to his parted lips. Eyes gently closed he partook of a flavor explosion - the perfect mixture of traditional pecan pie and sweet southern pralines - and uttered a low moan. With each bite, Micky opened his mouth as Davy did, as if tasting it vicariously, a trace of saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth. Finally swallowing the last piece, he leaned back in his seat and held his rounded belly.  
   "Oh man was that **excellent**! You fellas _'ave_ to try that some time, _**really**_!"  
   He turned a mischievous grin on the pitiful figure seated opposite him, and folding his arms across his chest, he cocked his head charmingly to one side.  
   " _Ello_ luv!"  
   Micky sighed heavily, knowing what was coming.  
   "Didja make up yer mind yet? I'll be 'appy to take care of yer dessert for ya, save you from all that _pain_ and humiliation."  
   The red tinge started at the tip of his nose, spreading rapidly outward to cover Micky's entire face as he felt the others eyes glued to him, waiting to hear his decision. His own eyes shifted from Davy's piercing stare to the box in front of him holding the sumptuous treat he craved so badly. Mentally, he shifted to the image of Davy in the shower, practically in tears from the earlier mix-up with the tube of mentholated gel.  
           (shit.. _shit_ )  
   "Tell ya wha'," Davy said slyly, reaching for the box of pie, "lemme make this _easy_ fer ya."  
   Lunging forward with both hands grabbing the box and clutching it to his chest, Micky made his own fateful decision.  
   " _NO - I'LL TAKE MY PUNISHMENT_ \- Please _PLEASE_ don't eat my pie!"  
   "Yer _sure_ about this - I've got _three witnesses_ ya know!  
   Still holding the container close like some bizarre security blanket, Micky nodded enthusiastically.  
   "Alright, but remembah - was _yer_ choice babe."  
   "Unbe _liev_ able," Tony said with a shake of his head, "I'd have bet good money you were getting a second piece of pie. _I'm_ the masochist around here."  
   " _Really_!" Mike said, raising an eyebrow, "Never would have pegged you as the type!"  
   "Not to sound like a smartass Mike, but what makes _you_ an expert on the subject if I may ask?"  
   "Are ya _kidding_?" Davy asked, "Mike's as big a sadist as they _come_ without leavin blood behind."  
   "Not to ignore that proud Texas grin, but tell me Davy, how do _**YOU**_ know this?"  
   "Erm.. they uh _sleep right below us_?"  
   "Hmm."  
   "Not to pry where I don't belong, but Peter your personality doesn't seem to line up as the masochistic type. How is it that you fit into this - _lifestyle_ \- with your peaceful nature?"  
   "It's probably _because_ of my pacifism that I'm ideally suited to be a sexual partner to Michael's sadistic tendencies. If I were any less easy going, it's unlikely that I'd be so eager to have him in the 'driver's seat' if you will. Frankly, I happen to enjoy the thrill he gets from the mind games he plays. Even on the rare occasions when he gets physically hurtful, there is always a sensual element to it that makes the whole experience erotic. I _love_ it when he's in charge."  
   "I go both ways, though to be truthful I've been leaning more in the master direction these last few.. _times_."  
   "Few _wha_ '? _**WHA**_ ’ times?” Davy sputtered, taken aback.  
   "You sound a bit surprised kiddo."  
   "I didn't know you had a.. a _erm_ …”  
   "I don't have anyone steady. I have - let's call them _liaisons_. You wouldn't know about it because I am quite discrete. Don't ask; that’s _**all**_ you’re going to get on the subject.”  
   "Well to round out the conversation," Mike chimed in, "I must say that it makes me proud to see our Tiny here taking his first baby steps in a world that I'm s _o_ comfortable in. I've just got one small thing to ask of you Davy."  
   "Oh yaa, wha's that?"  
   "When it comes time to take Micky upstairs and do the chosen deed, be kind enough to leave the door open just a bit. I _really_ wanna hear him squeal like a little girl."


	5. Chapter 5

   Micky paced the floor of their room waiting for Davy to come upstairs. Hindsight was kicking him in the gut as he contemplated the hand he was about to be dealt - a fate he'd foolishly brought down upon himself in exchange for six minutes of gastronomic satisfaction. When Davy opened the door, Micky stopped in his tracks: a small squeak involuntary issuing from his suddenly dry throat. Knees knocking together he watched as Davy closed and locked the door, an impish glint in his eyes.  
   "You ready?"  
   "As ready as I'm gonna get."  
   "I suppose I'm gonna let you do this in the bathroom near the water n all; m'not sure _why_ but I'm feeling generous. Come on babe."  
   Like a man walking the last mile to his execution Micky moved at a snail's pace, his head lowered, hands hanging limply at his sides: A sharp ear could almost hear Louis Armstrong blowing out the first bars of "Nobody Knows The Trouble I've Seen".  
          ( _Blindfold and last cigarette not included_ )  
   "You should probably strip," Davy suggested, leaning against the wall, "what with getting into the shower and all that rot."  
   Kicking off his moccasins Micky pulled the tail of his shirt from inside his jeans and began working the buttons. Tiny beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, his breath coming in short ragged puffs. Reaching in front of him, Davy picked up the still-open tube of minty-smelling balm, tossing it in the air repeatedly in an almost taunting nature. Seeing this, Micky nearly fell off the toilet lid.  
   Finally naked he sat with both hands covering his now frightened genitals, which were currently seeking refuge by attempting to disappear into his pelvis.  
   "Alright big guy, on yer feet - get in the showah."  
   Bravely, Micky stood and stepped over the side of the tub. Pressing himself flat against the wall near the showerhead, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, turning his head to the left.  
   "Okay, get it over with."  
   " _Brace_ yerself, it's gonna be a shock."  
   Reaching into the stall Davy grabbed the nozzle, blasting Micky with a full spray of icy-cold water from the shower, standing back and laughing hysterically.  
   " _ **AAAHHHH**_!" Micky shrieked, "That's _FREAKING COLD_!"  
   "Now," Davy said, cackling, "I can go to bed ' _appy_! See you when it all thaws out!"  
  
   When Micky came out of the bathroom a while later, he looked like a wet chihuahua: Thin, shivering and quite cross. Wordlessly, he skulked around to his side of the bed and sat down, his back to his trickster of a boyfriend.  
   "Are ya pissed at me?"  
   "No. I wanted to be, but it occurred to me it could've been a _whole_ lot worse. Thanks."  
   "Micky I could nevah _intentionally_ hurt you, not even if you deserved it. What 'appended 'urt like crazy, but it _was_ an accident."  
   "We oughtta put the muscle rub in the medicine cabinet so that _never_ happens again!"  
   "We cahn't."  
   "Why not?"  
   "Cuz while you were in the shower I went out on the balcony and chucked it about fifty feet across the beach."  
   ".. Or we could do _that_."  
   "You ready fer bed?"  
   "Nothin else to do, your's is too hot, mine is too cold and if we put em together I'm afraid it may cause a _cataclysmic event_."  
   "Right then, 'ow bout a good cuddle n off to dreamland?"  
   "Right now I'd settle for a handshake and a pallet on the floor."  
   "Oh come on, I promise no _funny_ stuff. Besides I'm nice and toasty ovah 'ere, I'll 'ave ya feelin' like a sauna in two minits."  
   "I couldn't not sleep next to you little one, I'd feel like an _arm_ was missing or something."  
   "Yaa that's me alright - _grow_ on ya I do."  
   "Don't mention growing.."  
   "G'night Micky."  
   "Night cookie."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Friday morning after physical therapy, Tony drove Davy to his intake appointment with Dr. Scott. After filling out enough paperwork to have purchased a new house, they waited in the reception area to be called back. Moments later, a tall dark-haired man in his late thirties - handsome and athletic-looking - stepped into the room.  
   "David, why don't you come on back? Mr. Martinelli, I'd like to see you alone when we're finished, then I'll speak to you both together."  
   Davy followed him into a large comfortable office with cherry-wood furnishings. A blue velvet settee graced the back wall with two mauve wingback chairs facing it. Potted plants dotted the ledges and tabletops, and lovely pastel gardens grew in framed paintings on three walls.  
   The fourth wall was a picture window with a fabulous view of the Pacific Ocean, the pier and boardwalk adding a picturesque charm to the scene.  
   "Please David," he pointed to two comfortable leather chairs in front of his desk, "Have a seat."  
   "Thank you."  
   "Im Dr. Paul Scott, I am a state licensed and board certified psychiatrist, psychologist and therapist. You can call me Paul if you're comfortable with it, do you prefer David?"  
   " _Davy_ , please."  
   "Okay Davy, I'd like your permission to audio record our sessions; no one other than myself will hear the tapes at any time under any circumstances without your consent. The purpose is simply for my own notes and evaluation, would that be alright with you?"  
   "Sure why not."  
   Paul placed a handheld recorder on the desk between them and pressing the record button continued with the intake.  
   "I've read over your paperwork and spoke with your guardian briefly about what's been going on at home. I want to tell you up front that anything you say to me will be kept completely confidential, with the exception of two things: If you tell me you're going to kill someone or that you are going to commit suicide. By law and by oath, I have an obligation to act on such statements by reporting them to the proper authorities and to protect you from yourself. Understand?"  
   "Yessir.. so anything I tell you - you cahn't even tell my _family_?"  
   "Within the guidelines I just described, no. Not without your consent."  
   Looking thoughtful, Davy nodded.  
   "Now I'm going to ask a lot of nosy questions," he chuckled, "honest answers will let me do more to help you, okay?"  
   "Okay."  
   "Are you considering suicide or any self harm at this time Davy?  
   "No sir, I've got too much goin fer me to check out _now_."  
   "Good to hear. Family circumstances; who do you live with?”  
   "Well, I live next door to Tony with three roommates; we're in a band together."  
   "Really! Any s _uccess_ with it?"  
   "We've 'ad a few gigs, but s'been a little dry lately with me bein' laid up fer a while."  
   "How well do you all get along, are you safe at _home_? _Safe_ with your guardian?"  
   "Oh absolutely, doc these guys are all so ovah protective I cahn't _pay_ to skin my knee!"  
   "Girlfriend?"  
   "Erm.. _Boyfriend_ ," he said sheepishly.  
   "Is it a safe and consensual relationship?"  
   "Yessir, Micky n I are great, 'es the drummer in our band."  
   "Little delicate territory - remember though it's all strictly between us. Any drug or alcohol use?"  
   "Not really. Tony is Italian - one hundred percent - so it's not unusual fer us to 'ave wine with Sunday dinner, but aside from that I've been drunk twice and got high once, _evah_."  
   "Thanks for your honesty. Any hallucinations? Hearing or seeing things that nobody else can?"  
   "No," he grinned, "not even when I was drinking."  
   "So let's talk about what's going on with you recently. Agitated, temperamental, argumentative, anxious - a full blown panic attack."  
   "Yaa, I've been a right _cantankerous_ little shit."  
   "Interesting terminology, a sense of humor is a great defense when dealing with a lot of stress, I like that. Anything else going on that I should know about?"  
   "Nothing that I can think of."  
   "What about nightmares?"  
   "No more than anybody else."  
   "Are you sexually active?"  
   " _Ra_ -ther."  
   "You've had quite a rough time these past five months from what I've been told, it’s a lot for anyone to keep a lid on. Why don't you have Tony come in for a bit, then I'll come get you and we'll wrap this all up."  
   Forty minutes later, they were on their way to the pharmacy, to fill a prescription for a mild anxiety medication. The current diagnosis: Post traumatic stress disorder. Davy would begin counseling three days a week on Monday morning.

  That weekend there would be a celebration, a belated party and barbecue to honor Peter's birthday. He had requested that it be held off until Davy was back on his feet, so he wouldn't be left out of the festivities. The bash was set for two o'clock Saturday afternoon out on the beach, with many of their fellow musicians and close friends invited. Tony and Mike were making pasta salad, chili, baked beans and stuffed mushrooms. Micky would man the grill, preparing chicken, hot dogs, shrimp skewers and BBQ ribs.  
   Davy was in charge of snacks and drinks: Pretzels, mixed nuts, potato chips, various soft drinks and a killer homemade punch. A chocolate sheet cake decorated in orange and purple was ordered from the bakery that would be topped with twenty-three candles.  
   With all the preparations in order, everyone spent the rest of Friday relaxing, each doing his own thing. Mike had tuned his guitar and was tinkering with a tune he'd been working on. Peter was in his closet, trying to decide what to wear to the party - a monumental task considering his array of swimwear.  
   Upstairs, Micky was examining some disgusting fungal formation with his microscope. Having scraped it off the bottom of a rock he found along the shoreline he declared it a new life form and was determined to prove it.  
Bored and sporting a case of cabin fever Davy made a dash for the beach, the sun, sand and surf luring him like the call of a mythical siren. Dressed in his favorite red swim trunks he wandered along the breakers letting the tide wash over his bare feet. He'd had a long swim, spending a good half-hour skipping stones across the surface of the water. Next, the young Englishman found himself tossing a beach ball with a group of small children, easily keeping them entertained with his antics as well as his accent. Moving farther up the beach Davy wandered among the stretch of shops that preceded the thoroughfare leading to the boardwalk. Mostly antique dealers and whatnot shops, there were a few scattered eateries and souvenir emporiums to entice the tourist trade.  
   He stopped at the Snack Shack for a cold treat and a quick rest, getting in the quickly growing line at the service window. In spite of the crowd the line moved rather quickly, and soon he was next in line. A gum-chewing teenage girl with blue hair and a piercing in every outcropping of her face was working at the counter.  
   "What can I get you?"  
   "Erm I'd like a large cherry cola and a chocolate dipped frozen banana please."  
   "Total is six o four."  
   He paid with a ten and by the time he had pocketed the change his order was ready. Collecting his snack, he grabbed a handful of napkins. Turning to find an empty table, he ran smack into the rather large leather-clad man in line behind him, dousing him in icy cold coke.  
   "Oh shit mistah I'm _terribly_ sorry! He said, offering him a wad of napkins.  
   "Why don't you look where the hell you're going _asshole_!"  
   "Look man I didn't mean to do that - n I _said_ I was sorry!"  
   "You should get out of my space while I still feel like letting you, you cock sucker - you and your little _chocolate dick_."  
   "S'at right! Well 'ow bout you n me tak-"  
   " _ **There**_ you are David, come on man we're gonna be late for our last class at the martial arts center."  
   Confused, Davy stood gaping at Ben Worthington.  
   "Man what are you-"  
   "Sensei Otsuko wouldn't be very happy with you if he knew you were using your skills on the unsuspecting public again - do you want _another_ court date? Come on."  
   Offering a ceremonial bow to the irate biker, Ben dragged Davy by the arm towards his car as quickly as possible.  
   "Rocket 'ave you _lost_ your mind? What the _f_ -"  
   "Shut your mouth," he whispered loudly, "at least until we get out of here!"  
   Once in Ben's Yugo - with the doors locked - he attempted to clear the air.  
   "You see the emblem on the back of his jacket?"  
   "Yaa, wha' about it?"  
   "Damn man, you need to _wise_ _up_ to some shit! He's a member of the Santa Cruz chapter of the Highwaymen motorcycle gang - the patch on his right shoulder means he's been in for at _least_ fifteen years - the one under it means he has _**killed** _ for them! This is _not_ a dude your little ass wants to get scrappy with!"  
   "Bloody _hell_ \- let's get out of 'ere man!"  
   Pulling away, Rocket glanced at the melting banana Davy still held by the stick it was impaled on.  
   "Dude _seriously_?"  
   "Wha'?"  
   "Well **_THAT_** looks right up your alley, nothing like advertising."  
   The joy gone from his chocolatey snack, Davy tossed it out the window. A sudden nervous agitation struck him, and in an instant, everything about the pleasant afternoon changed drastically. A light sweat broke out on his skin, though the air conditioner was blowing coldly. His breathing shifted to a light pant, and his entire body began to quiver uncontrollably.  
   "You okay Davy?" Ben asked, "You don't look so hot.  
   "N-no, m'really not."  
   "Relax man; we left dude way back there."  
   "It's n-not that. I've been h-having some problems with p-panic attacks."  
   Ben pulled over to the curb and parked the car. Turning to Davy, he gazed at the pale young man with a shrewd eye.  
   "I _know_ that look. I'd bet a _hundred bucks_ they cut you off from your pain pills within the last week."  
   "Yaa, M-Monday."  
   "How long since you had one?"  
   "About ten days I guess."  
   "Okay, just breathe easy - through your nose, I _**know**_   what _you_ need. We'll have you fixed up in no time."

  Davy came home in a fabulous mood in plenty of time to shower and change before dinner. His night to set the table he went cheerfully about his work, even whistling and moving about the kitchen with a bouncy step.  
Suspicious of his roommate’s behavior after a week of attitude and nastiness, Mike made a pointed effort to make him laugh heartily. With no trace of liquor on his breath, he backed off, not wanting to rock the boat.  
    Gathered for supper everyone was pleased with but wary of the agreeable, pleasant, sociable fellow that had reappeared among them, hoping his good-natured spell was more than a temporary reprieve. Curious, Mike decided to test the waters; he was sure he knew exactly how.  
   "Hey Davy, been meaning to ask how your pickled pecker was coming along? And why on _earth_ didja let Micky off the hook?"  
   " _Pickled peckah_ ," he laughed enthusiastically, "tha's funny Mike! Well my _mentholated manhood_ is doing fine, thank you very much. As far as Micky goes, 'e didn't get the heat treatment but 'e still got punished. Ahftah makin 'im _THINK_ I was gonna do it n lettin 'im freak out fer twenty minutes, I gave him the _coldest_ showah of 'is life!"  
   "Yaa, me with my eyes closed expecting something else and he blasts me with _ice cold water_. My dick disappeared and so did my nipples."  
   As the laughter died down, Mike decided to push it one step further, just for _scientific_ purposes.  
          (Micky would be _**so**_ proud)  
   "So Tiny, aside from being a soft-touch, does that make you the _bitch_ in y'alls relationship?"  
   A tense second passed while everyone held their breath, waiting for an explosion that never came.  
   "I suppose since we're both running a stick shift, _one_ of us has to open the trunk, so it might as well be me. Besides, we cahn't all be a studly raging _Texas bull_ ," he grinned.  
   Opening his mouth and letting go of a genuine belly laugh, Michael Nesmith was genuinely pleased and as a rare occurrence, caught off guard.  
   The remainder of the evening went just as well, with easy conversation, good humor and light-hearted fun. With a big day in front of them and a long day behind him, Davy pled fatigue and begged off early.  
   "M'sorry fellas, I've 'ad it. I'm gonna call it a night, turn in a little early."  
   Planting a long wet kiss on his beloved, he picked up his shoes and headed for the stairs.  
   "Night cookie, I'll see you soon."  
   "Night Davy."  
   "Good night you Tiny little dynamo."  
   "Night guys!"  
                                                                                 *  
   Later that night, Micky rolled over into an empty spot where Davy would normally be curled up asleep. Groping around in the dark, he realized the bed was void of his miniature mate. Blindly he grabbed his cell phone, curious as to the time: three forty-three am. Peeling back the covers he stepped out onto the floor, turning toward the bathroom in search of his runaway Romeo - sure enough, a telltale light cast a soft glow from beneath the closed door. Eager to check on his welfare, Micky sleepily shuffled over and intending to peek inside, gave the knob a turn.  
           (That’s _weird_.. he **_never_** locks it)  
   "Uh Dave?" He asked with a quick peck on the door, "can I come in there?"  
   "Erm, one sec Micky."  
   A long pause filled with muffled sounds from within dragged slowly by, as Micky considered the million reasons why a locked door suddenly irritated him. As he chastised himself for the third time for being so invasive, the lock turned and Davy opened the door.  
   "I sprayed the Lysol, but entah at yer own risk man," he teased.  
   "I don't hafta _go_ , I was trying to check on you! I wanted to make sure you weren’t puking up your guts again."  
   "Oh, no. Just all the cabbage I 'ad fer dinnah caught up with me. Heaven goin' in; _wicked bloody stuff_ coming out.”  
   "Why did you lock the door?"  
          (None of your beeswax, _stop_ asking him nosy questions)  
   "I didn't mean to, reflex I guess."  
   "Oh. You coming back to bed?"  
   "Yaa, though m'not really sleepy…"  
   "Well I'm not gonna _force_ you ya know."  
   "Ya kinda missed the point there."  
   "Huh? Oh.. _OH_."  
   "Unless you'd _rathah_ go back to sleep."  
   "No no, no _NO_ no. I like your plan **much** better, if you think you're.. um - _ready_ for that."  
   "Why wouldn't I be?"  
   "Because of my little screw-up …."  
   "Oh no, lil Davy is _per_ fect," he grinned, "Feeling like a million bucks and ready fer anothah round!"  
   "In that case, may I escort you both to the honeymoon suite?" he teased, offering his arm.  
   "We'd be delighted."


	6. Chapter 6

   At nine o'clock, the next morning Tony and the guys were all up, dressed and fed, and slugging back the last of their second pot of coffee. As per the norm, Mike was delegating the tasks that needed finishing before their guests would arrive.  
   "Micky you and Davy are in charge of decorations, start with inside the house and hopefully by the time you get around to the outside party area, Tony or I will be able to lend a hand."  
   "Yes sir, _sir_ **_right_ away _sir_**!" Micky saluted in mock seriousness.  
   "Tony I need you to help me set up folding chairs and food tables out back, and we'll need an extra table for Peter's presents to go on."  
   "No problem."  
   "Davy, I'm counting on you to make sure all the foam plates, plasticware, party cups and napkins are out there by one-thirty, but cover them with sumthin so they don't blow away!"  
   "Or get bird crap on em," Micky pointed out.  
   "Micky, I'm gonna need you and Tony to help me get the amps and stuff outside and hooked up so we can play later on. We gotta make sure nobody is gonna trip on the wires though."  
   "At five till two all the food needs to be taken outside and put where it belongs, except for the chili which I'll bring out when it's almost time to eat."  
   "What can I do Michael?"  
   "Peter, this is your party babe. You get to sit around looking gorgeous."  
   "Hey Mike, when do you want me to set out the ice buckets and the cake?"  
   "I think I'm gonna leave the cake inside on the kitchen table Tiny, and don't take the iced drinks or the punch outside until two o'clock."  
   "Okay."  
   "Alright everyone, let's get cracking."  
   "I'll be right back," Davy said, moving toward the stairs, "need to brush my teeth."  
   "I'll get started babe, I can blow up balloons while you do that."  
   " _Oh_! _Oh_! Can I help with that? _Please_ Michael, I **love** blowing up balloons!"  
   "If it means so much to ya Cotton of course you can."  
   "Yippee!"  
  
   By one-fifteen everything was ready and in place except for the food. All five men sat exhausted in the boy’s living room, attempting to catch their second wind before the party when there was a knock at the front door.  
   "I'll get it!" Peter called excitedly.  
   "Sit down shotgun!" Mike instructed, " _Davy_ , get the door."  
   "Why me?" He asked, getting to his feet, "Do I look like a _doorman_ to yer?"  
   Expecting an early party guest he paused at the mirror, making sure every hair was in place. Sweeping the door open with a grand and welcoming gesture, he was nearly bowled over when he saw who it was.  
   " ** _Nicky_**!"  
   " _Hey-ey_! Little Bro!"  
   The two grabbed each other in a bear hug, happy to see each other after so long.  
   "Nobody told me you were coming today!"  
   "Only Mike and Tony knew, and I asked them not to tell anyone. You look a far sight better than the last time I saw you bubba, how are you?"  
   "I'm doin alright! How's school going?"  
   "Very well actually, I got my first quarter evaluation yesterday - I'm in the top two percent of the entire class!"  
   "That's _ALL_? I figured you fer valedictorian!"  
   "Well, I would've been the number two student, but.. I sorta got a demerit two weeks ago."  
   "Nicky?" Tony scolded, "What did you do?"  
   "I had a bit of a row with one of my professors. The disagreement itself wouldn't have cost me anything, but he sort of left early: Wearing my Bolognese sauce."  
   " _Nicholas_!"  
   "I'm sorry, he insulted my mother!"  
   "Wha'd 'e say?" Davy asked angrily.  
   "I'm sorry Nicky! What happened?"  
   "He said I had no business in the culinary arts and that clearly my mother was a _terrible_ cook who probably burned a pot of water making tea."  
   "Yaa well good thing I wasn't there else 'ed have took 'ome a busted lip too! Manchester _kiss_ I'd have given 'im!"  
   "Dean Richards gave me three demerits but Professor Glock was suspended for a week. Turns out he's been doing a lot of this type of thing lately, one more incident and he'll be terminated."  
   "Did you really pour a pot of Bolognese sauce over him?" Micky asked.  
   "Right off the stovetop. Good thing our uniforms are so thick, though most of it pooled in his front pocket."  
   "What was the argument about in the first place?"  
   "He was ticked off Mike because I had added nutmeg to my sauce, like _Tony_ taught me a long time ago. All of my fellow classmates were raving about it and he accused me of trying to show him up."  
   "How old is he Nicky?"  
   "Mmm, as a guess I'd say late sixties, early seventies. Definitely our oldest instructor."  
   "Almost sounds like early to moderate stage dementia. Try to go easy on him okay mi amore?"  
   "Yessir, I'll do my best."  
   "So 'ow long are you staying Bubba?"  
   "Ah, unfortunately I have to take the last train back to the city tonight; I have a critical exam on Monday morning that I _have_ to finish preparing for."  
   "That blows!"  
   "I have a two week vacation coming up in June; I'll be here the entire time, I _promise_."  
   "I understand, I just really miss you. Yer 'ere now though, s'come on - you can 'elp me haul all this food out back!"  
  
   Finally, the party was in full swing. Peter was beside himself with excitement, as the friends poured in and the gifts piled up. Micky fired up the grill and soon the aroma of cooking meat was drifting down the beach.  
   Among the partygoers were several local bands that were friendly competitors of the boys in the job market. Off the grid, they were all simply performers with a common love for playing music. With so much talent gathered in one place, the party had a festive atmosphere filled with music of all sorts, from jazz and blues to rock and country, folk tunes, golden oldies and plenty of dance music. Onlookers up the beach even danced in the distance to the fabulous array of sounds.  
   A game of volleyball was going off to one side, guys vs. girls. Although the men were as a rule more athletic, fearful of injuring their female opponents they played a delicate game - effectively costing them the victory. The food was a great success all around, right down to the last bowl of chili. Fortunately, Tony had covered Micky on the grill long enough for him to grab a plate of food before everything had disappeared. At four-thirty, Mike and Micky carefully brought the cake out to the beach, placing it on one of the now-empty food tables. Gathering everyone together, they lit the candles and everyone joined in song.  
        "Happy Birthday to you…”  
   "Man," Micky whispered to Tony, "Where's Davy? He should _be_ here for this."  
   "I don't know, I saw him walking to the house about ten minutes ago."  
   "Should I go check on him?"  
        "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR PETER…”  
   "At least wait until Peter cuts the cake, it'll break his heart if you both disappear."  
   "Make a wish Peter!" Somebody called from the crowd.  
   Closing his eyes tightly, Peter made his special birthday wish. Then with all the breath he could suck in blew out every candle on his cake.  
   "Alright! Way to go _Petah_!" Davy cheered, stepping up beside Micky.  
   "Where _were_ you," Micky nearly hissed, "You practically missed the _whole thing_?"  
   "M'sorry, nature call."  
   "You have white stuff all over the end of your nose, what'd you do - _bury_ it in lime?"  
   Quickly wiping his nose with the back of his hand, Davy looked a bit flustered.  
   "I erm grabbed the lahst powdered doughnut. Is it all gone?"  
   "Yaa you got it. All that food, a doughnut and now cake? Where do you put it all?"  
   "Hollow leg," Davy winked, patting his left thigh.  
   " **Tiny**! **Micky**!" Mike called in his don't-dare-ignore-me voice, "Will y'all **_PLEASE_** help me pass out the cake!"  
   "Coming Mike."  
   "Right guv'nah!"  
   "Well now _THERE'S_ a word I haven't heard since God was a boy!" Nicky grinned.  
   "I wonder sometimes what you would sound like if you still had a more pronounced British accent like your brother does."  
   "I did for a long time Tony, but the folks forced me to 'speak proper', so by the time you came along they had half brainwashed half beat it out of my head. Sounded basically just like Davy."  
   "I'm sorry Nicky, if only I'd gotten to you _sooner_."  
   "Stop, you _saved_ my **_life_**! Anyhow it's all behind me. I do wish sometimes I still had the accent though, might help me get a damn _date_."  
   "Your time will come kiddo, and maybe someday _mine_ will too."  
   "I know how badly you wanted Davy, but all things considered I'm sort of glad it didn't work out. I don't think I could handle having my little brother as a _step mother_."  
   "Go get us some cake, you big goofball."

  Around six-thirty the last of the guests had left the party and the house was somewhat back to normal. The family was lounging about on the sofas chatting a bit as Peter tore through the massive pile of cards and presents.  
   "Are you kidding me," Tony said with a laugh, "those two go at it more than a colony of _rabbits_!"  
   "Its 'im ya know," Davy grinned, throwing a thumb in the direction of his curly-headed lover, "the guy has an _insatiable appetite_ in bed!  
   "Man I'm telling you, it's hard as heck being in a school that's primarily men and not hooking up with anybody. I've got so much pent up sexual energy, I could fuel the next space shuttle to _mars_ with it."  
   "What time is yer train Nicky?"  
   "Nine o'clock, why?"  
   "Oh well, you've got plenty of time. 'Ere now, I'll letcha borrow Micky fer a couple of hours."  
   "Say _WHAT_?"  
   "I beg your _pardon_?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.  
   "Funny Davy," Nicky smirked, "that's _really_ cute."  
   "Wha'? I'm _not_ jokin'! You'd do tha' fer me wouldn't ya Micky?"  
   "I um.. that is.. "  
   "Oh come on, the guys 'urtin over there."  
   "I'm not sure this is a good idea," Tony interrupted.  
   "I'm not going to **_borrow_** your boyfriend."  
   " _Why not_?" Micky whined, sounding a bit rejected.  
   "There ya see, 'es willing! Nobody says you've gotta go drop yer pole, just let Micky bait yer hook. Right good at it he is."  
   "You want me to go upstairs and get - I'm not sure exactly what - from Micky. You'd be _perfectly okay_ with that?"  
   "Sure, why not. I trust you both, it's a one time thing n you'll go back to school a _very_ 'appy guy."  
   "Does he do this kind of thing _often_?"  
   "First time its ever come up," Micky smiled sheepishly.  
   "And you would _do_ this?"  
   "Well, if you both _**want**_ me to, then yaa I suppose so."  
   "What's been going on around here since I left? You people have _corrupted_ my little brother!"  
   Everyone turned to look at Nicky, a guilty silence passing between the four roommates.  
   "What _took_ you so long?" He smiled broadly.  
   "So is that a yes?" Davy asked through broken laughter.  
   Glancing at Tony to gauge his true opinion, Nicky saw only annoyed amusement. Not wanting to be the heavy, Tony simply shrugged his shoulders.  
   "If you're both sure?"  
   Davy exchanged a questioning look with Micky.  
   "This is your call little one, I'll go along with whatever you say."  
   "Then take him up there and _rock_ his world."  
   Wordlessly they stood, and with Micky leading the way, they climbed the spiral staircase without a glance behind them. When the door closed, Davy stretched out on the love seat, a prideful grin on his face.  
   " _Unbelievable_ ," Tony said.  
   "Tiny," Mike said, his hands clasped behind his head, "I underestimated you. You're _not_ the bitch in this relationship by any means."  
   "What made you change yer mind?"  
   "Cuz unless I'm mistaken, I do believe you just pimped Micky out to your brother. That would give you the _biggest_ pair of balls this side of Houston son!"  
   A face-splitting smile plastered to his mug Davy crossed his legs, resting his head on his right arm."  
   " _Tha's right babe_."

  Locked in the bedroom with Micky, Nicky developed a slight case of cold feet. Eyeing the distance to both exits and the bathroom door, he stood by the desk watching nervously as Micky shed his shirt and shoes. Sprawled on the bed on his left side, one knee bent, head resting in the palm of his hand, Micky looked up at him with half-lidded eyes.  
   "You can come over here Nicky; just sit by me for a minute."  
   "You know, I think I'm good for the moment, but thanks."  
   "You don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he said sitting up, "but it's really okay if you do. Davy would not have made an offer if he wasn't sure. Either way, just sit down and talk to me."  
   Forcing his legs into action Nicky managed to cross the brief space, and found himself sitting in dangerously close proximity to his brother's boyfriend. A warm hand lightly stroking his back sent a delightful shiver up his spine.  
   "That okay?"  
   "Feels nice. Look Micky, I appreciate the gesture on both of your counts, but the last thing my ego needs is _pity_ sex. Thanks anyway."  
   Dipping his head slightly Micky chuckled softly.  
   "Who said anything about _pity_? You're as _good looking_ as Davy, charming and easy to be around - this is a **_treat_** for me."  
   " _Really_?"  
   "Heck yaa," Micky enthused, as his hand traced its way southward towards this other British backside.  
   "I mean we don't hafta, ya know, _fuck_ , but I'd sure as hell like to watch you come undone. _**Love**_ to be the reason."  
   Suddenly very warm, Nicky realized that Micky's shirtless body was pressed against him, his hands moving beneath his t-shirt, raising it slowly toward his head.  
   "Anytime you want me to stop Nicky," he breathed, "I _will_."  
   Soft kisses on his neck sent electricity along his frame, as Micky's nimble fingers explored the firm lines of his torso. A throaty groan issued from him as warm lips teased across a perky nipple. Succumbing to the sensual ministrations Nicky lay back on the bed, surrendering to Micky's insistent touch as he reached for the button on his jeans.  
   Trembling, he closed his eyes. Raising his limber hips, he allowed Micky to remove his clothes, shivering as the cool air embraced his erection. Strong hands caressed him, stroking his pelvis as feathery kisses tingled along his sensitive inner thigh. Moans of approval from above urging him on, Micky positioned himself above the pulsing shaft aching to be ravaged, his hot breath a precursor of the warm lips ready to please and devour.  
   Teasingly, he suckled each hardened testicle, cradling it on his silky tongue. Trailing open-mouthed kisses, he worked his way to the sticky head, licking and sucking the salty flesh with amazing skill. Pausing only a moment to swirl his tongue around the tip he wrapped his lips around Nicky's cock and swallowed him to the hilt. Convulsing with sheer pleasure Nicky arched his back, a guttural groan issuing from deep within him. Eager fingers wound into Micky's tumble of curls, urging him into a steady rhythm. On hands and knees, Micky bore down on him at a frenzied pace, sucking and licking, his mouth a hot blur. Pinning his hands at his sides, Micky assumed full control, the younger man writhing beneath him utterly delirious with pleasure.  
   "Oh _God_ \- **SO** close-" Nicky moaned.  
   With a final burst of energy, Micky sucked the head of Nicky's trigger-ready cock with cruel abandon. With a strangled cry from his captive lover, hot jets of Nicky's nectar spewed into Micky's throat. Taking him deeper, he milked his body of every drop, driving the youth beyond his physical limits.  
   " _PLEASE GOD - LET ME STOP_! I'm **BEGGING** you, _no more_!"  
   His hands released, Nicky scrambled away. Curling into a quivering ball he lay on his side, whimpering with ecstasy.  
   "Are you okay?"  
   "I'm _per_ fect. Just need a moment."  
   "I'll leave a clean towel in the bathroom if you wanna freshen up. I'll see you downstairs Nicky."  
   "Mmhmm."  
  
   Twenty minutes later, showered and looking like a new man, Nicky came traipsing down the steps. Tony was out with the boys on the back patio watching the sun dip into the Pacific.  
   "Feel _better_?" Tony asked with a quirky grin.  
   "Very much so thank you," he reddened, "where's Davy?"  
   "Big day, musta been too much for him," Mike said, "He done passed out on the couch."  
   "Well I'm going to wake his little ass up, I have to get going."  
   "Let me do it," Micky volunteered, "he can be really cranky when he doesn't get his nap out."  
   "Whatever you say chief."  
   Leaning over the snoozing man, Micky placed a tender kiss on his little sleeping beauty. Then another. Thickly lashed eyelids fluttered open and honey-brown eyes stared up at him innocently.  
   "Hi there."  
   "Hi."  
   "Sorry to disturb your nap but Nicky is getting ready to leave and he wanted to say goodbye."  
   "Oh, okay."  
   "I'll leave you guys to it, I'll be out back little one."  
   "So it's that time already is it?"  
   "Yes, I've got about five minutes."  
   "Damn. Goes by too fahst. So what part of June?"  
   "Third week, I'll be yours the whole time."  
   "Cool, we'll get some surfing in then."  
   "Sounds excellent. I have to get moving, but I wanted to thank you for the _wild_ little favor, I **_totally_** needed that. You're a trip sometimes but you're an _awesome_ brother."  
   "Erm.. yer welcome. _What_ favor?"  
   "Wow you _are_ hard to wake up," he laughed, "you know, _Micky_?"  
   "I've no idea what yer talking about."  
   "Davy don't play with my head like this, you _know_ what I'm referring to."  
   "Umm, I really don't."  
   "Okay now I'm sufficiently freaked out. Come on bubba - me, Micky - _upstairs_?"  
   "Wait a minit - _you_ \- and _MICKY!_ "  
   "Davy it was _**your**_ idea!"  
   "Yer jerkin me chain."  
   "Tony!" Nicky yelled, "I _need_ you!"  
   Led by Tony all four men came bustling through the bay doors, concerned and anxious to see what was wrong.  
   "What's the matter Nicky?"  
   "Small problem."  
   "What is it?"  
   "Davy insists he doesn't remember the little.. _favor_.. he did for me."  
   "Shit. _THAT'S_ a problem." Micky said.  
   "Fine; _**Big**_ problem.”  
   "Kiddo you honestly don't remember that conversation? We were all sitting together when it took place!"  
   "I erm.. of course I remember, I was just.. messing with Nicky."  
   "Oh jeez, you scared me to _death_! Here I am thinking I'd made it with your boyfriend and you didn't actually _give_ me the go-ahead!"  
   "You - yaa. You, and my Micky. I mean _boyfriend_ \- _MINE_. **_Good thing_**.. my idea."  
   "Kiddo are you okay?"  
   "M'fine. Great even. Just not.. awake."  
   "You sure bubba?"  
   "Yaa, need some coffee. So.. 'ow was it?"  
   "Uh.. well. You definitely picked yourself a winner."  
   "Tony are you driving him to the station?"  
   "No, I've already called a cab."  
   "Oh, was gonna ride along."  
   "Davy, are you _regretting_ the decision you made? With me and Micky? I don't want this to come between us."  
   " **NOTHING** will **_evah_** come between us understand me? No regrets Nicky, I trust you _both_."  
   "I love you too lil bro."  
   "Cabs out front." Mike called.  
   "Walk me out?"  
   "You betcha."  
   "See you next time everybody!"  
   "Be good Nicky."  
   "Bye Nicky, thanks for coming to my party."  
   "See ya sport."  
   "See ya shotgun."

   When Nicky was gone, Davy came inside and went straight to his room. Three sets of eyes turned to Micky - with sympathy, panic and snide humor.  
   Sighing heavily Micky came to his feet.  
   "Guess I better go see what's going on."  
   "Considering all that's been happening with him lately, I'll stick around just in case you need me for anything."  
   "Thanks Tone, do you by any chance have the funeral home on speed dial? Cuz I think he's gonna kill me."  
   "Good luck shotgun."  
  
   Easing the door open Micky slipped into the room quietly to find Davy sitting on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest.  
   "Can I come in, talk to you?"  
   "Course you can."  
   He sat beside the forlorn young man, shoulder to shoulder.  
   "Be honest with me. You really _don't_ remember, do you?"  
   "Strictly between us? No, I don't. The lahst I really remember is being at the pahrty passing out cake."  
   "Are you alright? Did you like black-out or something?"  
   " _Some_ thing," he mumbled.  
   "Are you pissed at me little one?"  
   "Wouldn't rightly be fair now would it? I mean s'not like you two went off behind my back."  
   "Cookie, if I'd had any idea that you didn't know what you were doing …"  
   "It _isn't_ yer _**fault**_!"  
   " _Shit_."  
   "Micky?"  
   "Yaa?"  
   "What did you… Did you two, erm…”  
   "I didn't fuck him Davy."  
   A relieved nod.  
    "He didn't fuck _me_ either, we didn't even _kiss_."  
   "You didn't? _Really_?"  
   "Davy I gotta admit I was a little floored when you volunteered me to fix Nicky's.. _situation_. But you made it sound so casual, like 'ho um just helping out a friend' - and when you said you trusted us, that it'd be a one-time bit.. it didn't feel so _weird_."  
   "So, what did 'appen?"  
   Blushing deeply Micky took a sudden interest in the blanket bunched up at his knees.  
   "Oh. Umm.. oh. I guess I sorta like.. sucked him off."  
   "Oh. Micky?"  
   "Yaa?"  
   "You didn't.. use _the thing_ on 'im - did you?”  
   "What? **No**! That's a _special_ thing, just for my little one!"  
   "Yaa?" Davy grinned.  
   "Absolutely."  
   "Hey Micky?"  
   "Yaa babe?"  
   "Next time, can yer just give 'im a hand job n be done with it?"  
   "Sure if tha's wha- _WHATTA YOU MEAN NEXT TIME_?"  
   "Just sayin', if I evah send 'im to you again - 'ands only."  
   "Davy, you're _weird_."  
   "I love you too."  
  
   On arriving back on campus, Nicky could not shake the nagging feeling that things needed to be said between him and Davy. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone.  
   "Ello?"  
   "Hey bubba, did I wake you?"  
   "Are ya kidding, that nap screwed me up, I'll be awake till the _cows_ come 'ome."  
   "Listen Davy, I had to call and talk to you, I wasn't comfortable with the way things felt when I left - the whole _Micky_ thing?"  
   "Everything is fine Nicky. I was so far out of it when I woke up I wasn't thinking clearly. But yes, I remember _everything_ \- and no there's _not_ a problem."  
   "I hope so. Davy I'd cut my own _hand_ off before I'd ever do **anything** to hurt you, you know that don't you?"  
   "I do bubba, and there's no one else in the _world_ I'd trust with Micky. Really, I wanted 'im to fix you up. How was it by the way?"  
   "Well, now that it's just us - if I ever need a vehicle suck-started, I _know_ who to call."  
The fit of hysterical laughter on the other end of the phone assured Nicky that indeed, all was good between the Jones boys.


	7. Chapter 7

   Over the next week, all seemed well with Davy - aside from the fact that he was sleeping much more than usual. Dr. Scott attributed this to the anti-anxiety medication and relieved, everyone dismissed their concerns.  
       Everyone that is except Mike.  
   He had a nagging feeling that Davy was hiding something. He'd caught him sneaking in the bay doors late Wednesday night, and though he had explained it away as a simple late-night walk on the beach, his nervous demeanor told the shrewd Texan otherwise.  
   Thursday afternoon he came downstairs disheveled and looking cross. Heading straight for the coffee pot he suddenly lost it, when he found it cold and empty.  
   "Bloody _fucking_ hell!" He raged, pounding his fist on the countertop.  
   Looking up from the newspaper, Mike watched warily as he fumed about in the tiny kitchen.  
   "Would you like me to make some more coffee Davy?" Peter asked softly.  
   "If ya cahn't fucking _'ave_ coffee made when people get outta bed don't bloody bother _offering_ when it's too **_friggin late_**!"  
   "I'm sorry."  
   "Now wait just a _cotton pickin_ minute," Mike said angrily, "he didn't _hafta_ offer you a goddamn thing you ungrateful spoiled little prick! **Apologize**!"  
   "I will not!"  
   "You will or I'll come over there and **teach** you how by God!"  
   " _ **Fuck you**_ Mike!"  
   "Davy!" Tony shouted, standing in the doorway.  
   "Tony you better get hold of that mouthy little shit before _I_ do!" Mike seethed, now on his feet.  
   "What the hell is going on?"  
   " _Hotshot_ ovah there thinks he can tell me what to do!"  
   "He comes down outta bed at one o'clock expecting us to have coffee on for his lazy ass, cussin n pounding his fist cuz there wuddunt any. Peter here offers _very nicely_ to make him some and the little asshole _cussed_ him cuz it wasn't already made! So I told him to apologize!'  
   "Davy?"  
   "Wha'?"  
   "Is that how it went?"  
   "So fucking _what_ if it is! I get sick of coming downstairs to an empty coffee pot - regardless of what time I get up it's _always_ the same!"  
   "Apologize to Peter Davy."  
   " _Screw_ that."  
   "Apologize to him or there will be consequences."  
   "Screw you n yer bloody _consequences_!"  
   "Go upstairs to your room - stay there until I come to see you. _Go **now**_!”  
   "I want some breakfast."  
   " _Tough_. Upstairs."  
   "M'not a child."  
   "You keep actin' like one," Mike stepped forward, "I'm by God gonna turn your rotten ass over my knee and _TREAT_ you like one!"  
   "David Thomas **UP**!"  
   "Kiss me arse, _all_ of yers," he spouted, stomping up the steps.  
   As he slammed the bedroom door, the mirror slid off the living room wall, shattering on the floor.  
   "I'm telling you, one of these days - right over my dadblamed knee!"  
   "Peter, I'm _so sorry_ he treated you that way, please accept my apology."  
   "It's not your fault Tony, it's not even _Davy's_ fault really. We all know that something isn't right with him right now. I know that deep down inside, he would never be that way to me."  
   "Cotton you're a lot more forgiving than I am," Mike admitted, "I love you for it. But if I ever have a chance I'm gonna tear that ass-end up!"  
   "I don't understand why now, he's been doing great all this time and then _**BLAM**_ ; has anything happened that I've missed? Any arguments or anything?"  
   "Not a dadgum theng. Been sweet as sody-pop."  
   "I'll have to talk to Micky, see how he's sleeping - nightmares and such. Where is Micky?"  
   "He went to the market; it’s his turn to cook."  
   " _Petah_?"  
   They turned to see Davy at the bottom of the steps, tears coursing down his cheeks.  
   "Petah I'm so _ **so**_ sorry, I dunno what came ovah me. Please Petah, ya don't hafta forgive me but _please_ accept my apology."  
   "Of course I do Davy, and I _do_ forgive you. I know you didn't mean to say those things."  
   "Tony, m'not trying to disobey you, I'll go back to my room and stay there. I just 'ad to tell you 'ow sorry I am. You've done _so much_ fer me, I shouldn't talk to you li'e that."  
   "Alright kiddo, it's going to be okay. It's very big of you to come admit that you were wrong."  
   "Mike, I know you're angry with me, n I don't blame you one bit. If you wanna come hit me, I.. I _won't move_ \- I'll take my medicine like a man. I'm sorry I disrespected you again and so sorry for treating Petah the way I did. **_Please_** Mike, _please_ accept my apology."  
   Hands on his hips Mike was still fuming. Eyes blazing he walked slowly to stand before the little Englishman he so desperately wanted to pulverize. Bracing himself for a punch in the mouth, Davy stood trembling, yet bravely facing the mountainous Texan looming over him. His left hand snaking around the back of the younger man's neck, Mike snatched him forward, bringing them nose to nose. Speaking in a deep whisper, he was more frightening than had he been shouting.  
   "I'm _not_ a patient man Tiny but I happen to care about you. So I'm gonna let you slide just _one more time_. If you ever speak to me like-at again I _**WILL**_ beat you down. If you even _LOOK_ like you're considering **_thinking_** about the possibility of talkin to **PETER** that way again - I will make you wish you'd never set foot on US soil. _Understand me_?"  
   Too tongue-tied to speak, Davy nodded vigorously, a runner of sweat trickling down his face.  
   "Alright then," Mike smiled, "come here Tiny."  
   He pulled him into a tight embrace, both of his long arms wrapping all the way around the thin body. Clapping him firmly on the back, he released him, giving a gentle push in the direction of the stairs.  
   "Up with ya before I take my belt to your ass!"  
   "I'll be there shortly kiddo to talk about this."  
   "Yessir," Davy said, and headed up the steps.  
   "Thank you Michael," Peter said, an adoring smile on his upturned face.  
   "Well shotgun I know you don't like violence."  
   "Man that grocery store was jam-packed," Micky breezed in breathlessly, arms laden with paper sacks, "I thought I'd _NEVER_ get outta there! Talk about a madhouse, you guys have _no idea_ the insanity you missed!"  
   Glancing at each other the three men burst into ironic laughter.  
   "What's so funny?" Micky asked, emptying the bags.  
   "Trust me," Tony said, "you _don't_ want to know!"  
   "Okay. Say has anyone checked on Davy? I figured he'd be up by now."  
   Another burst of riotous laughter met his ears. Confused, he looked from one to the other of his friends.  
   "You're probably right," he said, shaking his head, "I _really_ don't wanna know."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Once calm enough, Tony climbed the stairs and knocked on Davy's bedroom door. Aware of what lay ahead of him, Davy sighed, inviting him in.  
   "Well you're just knocking them out of the park today aren't you kiddo?"  
   "Some days I wanna glue my mouth shut before I come downstairs."  
   "The idea _has_ merit. So what happened?"  
   "I dunno really, I wasn't even angry with anyone."  
   "Something had to have set you off Davy; you've _never_ spoken to me like that. To make matters worse you practically bit poor Peter in half for offering to do you a favor. So, what is it that you're _not_ telling me?"  
   "N- _night_ mares," he lied, "m'not sleeping well because of it. _No excuses_ , just.. letting you know."  
   "Is that why you were walking the beach at three-thirty this morning?"  
   "Bloody _Mike_! He said he wouldn't say anythin'."  
   "He didn't. I saw you from my upstairs bedroom window."  
   "I had a bad dream n couldn't get back to sleep, so I went fer a walk."  
   "Anything you want to talk to me about?"  
   "No sir, not right now anyway."  
   "That's okay kiddo, but I recommend you bring it up tomorrow at therapy."  
   "I will."  
   "Meanwhile."  
   " _Oh_ boy …"  
   "You saved yourself an ass-whipping by coming down of your own accord to apologize. I do however feel that you need to make amends. So, in lieu of disciplining you, I'm leaving it to you to find a way to make it up to Mike and Peter. I expect you'll have a solution for me by dinner time."  
   "Yessir.. _Tony_?"  
   "Yes Davy?"  
   "I nevah meant to _be_ s'much trouble fer you. I'm sorry."  
   "Kiddo _all_ young men are a peck of trouble - or more - not all are as _worth_ it as you. I'll see you at dinner."  
                                                                                      *****  
   When Micky rang the proverbial dinner bell, Davy didn't come down to eat. Certain that he knew why, Tony went up to fetch him himself.  
   "Davy?" He called, knocking on the door, "come down for supper kiddo."  
   "M'not very hungry."  
   "I'm coming in okay?"  
   "Suit yerself."  
   "You haven't eaten anything today, you _must_ be hungry. So how about the truth."  
   "I.. I don't 'ave a solution fer Mike and Petah. So I figured I shouldn't come down to dinnah."  
   "A reasonable attempt at self-discipline, but denying yourself a meal is _not_ the answer Davy. Come, have some dinner with us. I'm sure we can put our heads together and find a decent arrangement."  
   "Yer not angry?"  
   "No. I'm sure you gave it a good deal of thought. Come on, Micky made meatball parmesan, one of your favorites."  
   "All right, just lemme wash me 'ands."  
   "I'll be at the table."

   "Is he coming downstairs?" Micky asked as Tony returned to the kitchen.  
   "He'll be here in a few minutes. Listen, I had told him earlier today that he had to come up with a way to make amends to you two for his behavior this afternoon. So far he's got nothing - so maybe when we get dinner under way, I'll bring it up and the two of you can offer some _interesting_ suggestions, something that'll flip his lid a little, just to get his creative juices flowing."  
   "I'll try and think of something," Peter grinned.  
   "Man I _love_ the malicious way your mind works sometimes," Mike laughed, "You can count on _me_!"  
   Moments later, Davy came trotting downstairs.  
   "Sorry fer 'oldin everyone up, you guys should've stahrted without me!"  
   "It’s alright little one, it's still piping hot. I'm just glad you're having dinner with me."  
   "It _smells_ wonderful!"  
   "Looks amazing as well, is that a mozzarella-asiago blend?"  
   "Provolone too, with extra garlic. Salad Tony?"  
   "Absolutely, thank you! Rolls kiddo?"  
   "Yes, thanks. Petah didja want the parmesan cheese?"  
   "I've got some already, but could I please have the salt and pepper?"  
   "Sure, 'ere ya go."  
   "Micky this is outstanding, I believe you've outdone yourself shotgun!"  
   "Thanks Mike, could ya pass me the ranch? **OH** \- I almost forgot - I picked up some _GREAT_ espresso coffee for after dinner, it'll go _perfect_ with the tiramisu!"  
   An awkward quiet fell over the table. Micky looked around, slightly bewildered.  
   "Was it something I said?"  
   "Can we talk about _anythin_ ' but coffee?" Davy asked weakly.  
   "Ah yes," Tony spoke up, "that reminds me. Peter, Mike - Davy is having some difficulty thinking of what he can do for each of you as a means of atonement for what happened between you today. Perhaps the two of you can suggest something?"  
   "Erm.. _Tony_?" Davy said nervously.  
   "Why I'd be more n happy to help ol Tiny out of a spot, I'm sure I can think of _sumthin_ he can do," Mike smiled.  
   " _Say, **Tony**_ -" Davy tried to interrupt.  
   "I know there's something I'd _love_ for Davy to do for me," Peter spoke with a mischievous smile.  
   "Cotton I think we're on the same wavelength," Mike smiled broadly.  
   " **TONY**!" Davy blurted, a bundle of jangled nerves.  
   "Yes kiddo?"  
   "Yer not _seriously_ gonna leave me at the mercy of _Hitler and Company_ 'ere are you?"  
   "Well in all fairness Davy, since you didn't meet the deadline I gave you it makes sense that the people you hurt should decide what your atonement should be, don't _you_ think?"  
   "I'd rathah take my chances with the _firing_ squad."  
   "I think Tiny should wait hand and foot on Peter for twenty-four hours, doing whatever he tells him to do."  
   "Michael that's a great idea!"  
   "Now _wai'_ a minit-"  
   "Good, good! What about you Mike?"  
   "Well Tony what I have in mind for me is a _little_ more private and a lot too _**personal**_ to talk about at the supper table."  
   " _ **Micky**_!"  
   "What?" He answered, mouth full of meatballs.  
   "Are you even _listening_ to this?"  
   ".. Yaa, Why?"  
   "Mike's talkin 'bout 'avin 'is way with me - I _know_ it - aren't you gonna say anythin'?"  
   "Oh, yes. Be careful Mike, he's got a sharp tooth on the top left."  
   " **MICKY**!"  
   "What, is it the _right_?"  
   "Are you _all_ **HIGH**?" Davy cried, jumping up from his seat.  
   "Okay kiddo calm down," Tony interrupted, laughing heartily, "it was all just a little joke. I set this up with them before you came down to dinner."  
   At the far end of the table, Mike was in tears from holding back the laughter that was now rolling out in knee slaps and guffaws.  
   "Tha's _not_ funny," Davy said, even as the corners of his mouth turned up in a grin, "tha's a _terrible_ thing to do to a person!"  
   "I'm sorry Davy," Tony laughed, "I would've stopped it sooner, but the look on your face kept getting more and more _PRICELESS_ by the second!"  
   "I thought you'd all been smoking grass while I was up in me room - bloomin _baked yer brains_ or something!"  
   "Have _mercy_ that was fun; that was better n if I _**could**_ have my way with you!”  
   "Depends on who you _ahsk_ I suppose, but you scared the _**British**_ outta me!"  
   "Does this mean I don't have a slave for a day?"  
   "Sorry Petah, fraid so."  
   "Actually," Tony said, rubbing his chin, "I have an idea."  
   "Oh no, ' _ere_ we go."  
   "Davy, one day in the next week, I think you should do all of Mike's chores - housework, shopping, cooking - whatever he's responsible for on the day of his choosing. The same for Peter - so in essence, you'd be 'slave for a day' but nothing out of line or humiliating, and you won't be taking orders as it were."  
   "I like the sound of that idear."  
   "Peter?"  
   "I guess so."  
   "What do you say kiddo, are you man enough to step up to the challenge?"  
   "Yessir, I can do that. I owe them that much n perhaps a little more."  
   "Good," Micky said, "now that all that's settled, who wants tiramisu and um.. _hot black caffeinated liquid_?"  
                                                                                      *****  
   Friday morning Davy was moving slow and in another lousy mood. In a stroke of genius, Tony brought him a large travel mug of fresh coffee when he came to take him to his appointments. The conversation during the ride to town was terse and fairly one-sided.  
   "Another rough night Davy?"  
   "Mmm."  
   "Nightmare?"  
   "No."  
   "Trouble sleeping then."  
   "Yaa."  
   "Are you feeling unwell?"  
   "M'fine."  
   "Maybe too much espresso last night? Was good though wasn't it?"  
   "S'alright."  
   "Are you going to talk to Dr. Scott about the nightmares?"  
   "Just 'ow much coffee 'ave you _'ad_ Tony?"  
   "My usual two cups, why?"  
   "You could talk the ears off a _fence post_ this morning."  
   "Just making conversation. I was curious, did you-"  
   "Oh look - _we're here_.. **_Thank God_**."  
   Davy was on the pavement before the car had even stopped moving. Irritated, he was eager to get inside and start the day's workout. Already waiting for him, Amy took him back right away, putting him on the rowing machine with a twenty-minute timer. Back up front, she asked Tony into her private office.  
   "Good morning, how are you?"  
   "Fine thanks, and you?"  
   "Very good, thanks. I wanted to speak to you about David, tell me - are any _unusual_ things going on at home?"  
   "Depends on what you consider unusual. Mind if I ask you why?"  
   "Certainly not, and feel free to tell me to mind my own business. I've noticed some changes Mr. Martinelli, that are all too familiar to me. From experience with a close family member and some things I've picked up on with David - I have to ask - is there any chance he may be using drugs?"  
   "… What _kind_ of things?"

  At ten o'clock sharp, Paul Scott called Tony into his office for their customary pre-session meeting. They dispensed quickly with the formalities of catching up and cut straight to business, as Tony indicated he had an urgent concern.  
   "… So I'm wondering if we need to look in a different direction for the source of the problem."  
   "Interesting. Tell you what, I was planning to do a standard blood level draw today on Davy to track his medication, I'll order a tox-screen as well when I submit it to the lab."  
   "He's going to be very upset, especially if we're barking up the _wrong_ tree."  
   "He signed paperwork in the beginning agreeing to random drug testing, all of my patients have to. No need to even mention it to him unless he tests positive."  
   "How soon will you have the results?"  
   "Could be this afternoon; may not be until Monday. “  
   "Well then, I'll be waiting to hear from you."  
   "Send David in now, would you?"  
   "Sure thing."  
   Out in the lobby Davy was on the phone, talking in animated but hushed tones. Tony's reflection in the plate glass window caught his attention, promptly ending the conversation.  
   "You're up slugger," Tony said, "Doc's all done picking my brain for today."  
   Nodding, he tapped on the office door and let himself inside.  
   "Ah, good morning Davy."  
   "Morning Dr. Scott."  
   "Still stuck on the formalities eh? I thought by now you'd be more comfortable with me."  
   "Yessir - that is I am. It's more about respect than anythin', s'just the way I was taught ya see. M'not really used to addressing authority on a first name basis."  
   "Duly noted, but it's important for a healthy doctor-patient relationship to have a certain amount of intimacy, familiarity. Not rushing you mind you, but it helps build a level of trust and confidence."  
   "I'll work on it, its nearly twenty years of yes ma'am and no sir n thank you Dr. so-and-so.. some things are 'arder to get away from."  
   "So how are things going at home?"  
   Immediately glancing at his knees, Davy was distracted, avoiding the doctor’s gaze as he considered his answer.  
   "Uh oh, _that's_ not a good look," he chuckled, "what happened kiddo?"  
   "In a nutshell I opened my mouth."  
   "How bout cracking that shell a little bit."  
   "I woke up yesterday as my alter-ego, _super jerk_. Made a huge mess of things with Mike n Petah, cussed at Tony and almost had a long Texas leg shoved so far up my backside I could've polished his boot with my _tongue_."  
   "Ouch, sounds like you ate your Wheaties yesterday."  
   "Shit," Davy grinned, "I managed to pull all this off _BEFORE_ breakfast!"  
   "Are you taking the adderall properly Davy?"  
   "Yessir, twice a day like you said."  
   "How are you sleeping?"  
   "M'doin alright."  
   "Nightmares, hallucinations?"  
   "No, nothing."  
   "Any idea what set you into your tirade?"  
   "Unfortunately yes. I'd slept rather late n when I came down to the kitchen, there wasn't any coffee left."  
   "Coffee again huh."  
   "It's not that even, I was mad - stupid as it is - that I'd been.. left out. Petah offered to brew a pot n I went off on 'im. Tha's when Mike got pissed n threatened to make one lil Davy into two. So I got scrappy with 'im."  
   "Did it occur to you that the early bird might just get the fresh coffee?"  
   "I know it's me own fault, but my mouth didn't consider that when I was walking around half asleep with one eye open n my brain still in the pillow."  
   "Tell me something positive that happened to you since we met last."  
   "Mike let me keep my face the way I'm used to seeing it."  
   "Powerful force at home is he?"  
   "A little. Mostly 'es just protective of Petah. That n 'e doesn't tolerate being disrespected."  
   "Sounds like a good set of values. I want to do a blood draw on you today, check your levels on the adderall. Very rarely there are people who just don't maintain a reasonable amount in their system for it to work properly. Let's make sure you're not one of them."  
   "Ochh, I **_HATE_** needles."  
   "Relax Davy; I'm a gentle touch," he said, putting on a glove, "So what are your plans for the weekend?"  
   "We 'ave rehearsal tomorrow - audition coming up to get ready for. Some time at the beach maybe. Then Sunday I've gotta do all of Petah's chores and make dinner, my atonement fer yesterday. Mike's day is Tuesday."  
   "What about Tony?"  
   " _Erm_.. I guess 'e was s'busy making sure I made amends with the others…”  
   "Ah yes. Parents and parental figures often don't get the apologies or atonement they deserve in the process of making sure their young adults are treating others properly."  
   "I'm on it Paul, I _promise_."  
   "Good man. I'll see you Monday, ten o'clock. "

   "So," Tony asked on the drive home, "How did it go?"  
   "Pretty good I guess, 'e took some blood from me: _that_ sucked. Tony, what're yer plans for today?"  
   "My usual Friday routine; some gardening, mow the lawn - some baking. Probably get a head start on the laundry, why?"  
   "I'd like to do it m'self."  
   "Do what kiddo?"  
   "Yer work. Except maybe the baking, but I'll clean up ahftah if you don't mind."  
   "I'm not following you, _why_?"  
   "Well, I'm doin what I can to make it up to the fellas, but I treated you just as shitty. Thought maybe I could do some things fer you too. Just to letcha know I really _am_ sorry."  
   "Wow Davy, I'm impressed. If it's that important to you, I think we can make some of that happen."  
   "To be fair n honest, Paul suggested I consider making amends with you. The _how_ part was my idea."  
   "Tell you what kiddo, I'll look around the house for some work to give you and you can choose a few hours worth from a list I'll put together. Sound alright?"  
   "Yessir, that'd be perfect."


	8. Chapter 8

   Back at home, Davy went straight upstairs to change, leaving Tony alone in the kitchen with Mike.  
   "Can I speak to you in confidence Mike?"  
   "Course, is anything wrong?"  
   "I'm not really sure just yet, and I may not have a solid answer until Monday. I have a favor to ask of you, but it's a bit on the underhanded side. If you'd rather not get involved in such a thing, I'll certainly understand."  
   "Possibility, depends on what it is."  
   "There's the slightest chance that Davy may be using drugs Mike; most likely some sort of downer - probably opiate pain medication. Dr. Scott did bloodwork today to check his adderall level - he's requesting a toxicology report as well."  
   " **Tiny**?! We're talkin about our innocent little _cain't-drink-a-whole-beer **Davy**_?"  
   "That would be the one. "  
   "So y'all think the drugs are why he's been acting like this?"  
   "On the contrary, the lack of them. He was on pain medication for so long; his body likely became dependent on it. When the prescription stopped, he went into withdrawal."  
   "So how is it that he's using them now?"  
   " _If_ that's what he's doing, and its pills he is taking Mike, you can buy them on the street almost anywhere."  
   "So what is it ya wanted me to do?"  
   "I may have you do a bit of snooping for me, if you think you can find an excuse to get into his room."  
   "Gimme a little bit to figger out a reason n I'll get back with you on this."  
   " _Shh_.. So I'll make the pork roast and asparagus and you'll handle the salad?"  
   "Sorry I was so long getting changed," Davy said, skipping down the stairs, "I uh.. 'ad to visit the _little boys_ room," he grinned.  
   "What about dessert?" Mike asked, quickly following Tony's lead.  
   "Cherries Jubilee? That's fine Davy, we were working out Sunday dinner."  
   "Ohh _please_ make it cherry cobbler?"  
   "I could do a cobbler, what do you think Mike?"  
   "Cobbler works for me. Coffee or wine?"  
   "Why not both? Wine with dinner - coffee with dessert."  
   "Tha' almond amaretto cappuccino you make would be _per_ fect with the cobbler!" Davy announced enthusiastically.  
   "Cappuccino it is then. Are you ready kiddo?"  
   "Sure am, hungry too ahfter all o _this_ talk."  
   "Come on, I'll make us some sandwiches and work on the list while we eat."  
   "You don't hafta tell _me_ twice, lead the way.”  
   "I'll uh letcha know later what I come up with for that salad," Mike winked.  
   "Sounds good, thanks Mike."  
                                                                                      *****  
  Mike took the opportunity he had to nose around upstairs while everyone was out of the house - Davy would be hours working for Tony, and Micky and Peter had just left for some time on the beach.  
   Trying to think like a good detective, he visually scanned the room to determine the best place to begin his search. Ruling out shared spaces like the desk and nightstand, he decided to try the bathroom first. With twin sinks and two medicine cabinets, Davy would have a more private place to keep a secret stash.  
   Rifling quickly through the shelves, careful to put everything back where it belonged, Mike turned up little more than a disposable razor, a half-full bottle of Davy's cologne, a new tube of toothpaste and a half dozen dust-covered condoms still in their foil packaging. He pulled out the vanity drawer and with as much luck as before came away with three combs, a nail file and a small box of q-tips.  
   " _Damn_!"  
   Frustrated, he pounded a hand against the linen closet. A curious rattling noise met his ears as something shook from within, falling to the floor.  
   Opening the thinly paneled door, he looked toward the floor of the four-foot built-in cabinet. Two unmarked brown bottles lay on a pillowcase, both of them containing white oblong tablets. Pocketing both of them, Mike hurried downstairs to make a phone call.  
   "Hello?" Tony said into the phone.  
   "This is _Houston_ ," Mike said, "We have a _**problem**_."

  Sitting in the kitchen Tony examined the pills in both of the defaced prescription bottles, noting the numbers and letters etched into each of the two different tablets. Using his cell phone he searched the internet to determine just what he held in his hand.  
   " _Well_?" Mike asked, anticipation in his eyes.  
   " _ **Damn**_ ," Tony sighed, "looks like Amy Dowling was right on the money. Both of these are pain medications, but neither is what Dr. Bowen had written for Davy. This one is the same pill - _Hydrocodone_ \- but they are ten milligrams, _**twice**_ the strength of the ones he was prescribed. These are _Percocet_ , another pain killer, also ten milligrams, though these have a higher potency."  
   "So, now what do we do?"  
   "I believe a family meeting is in order, can you get Micky and Peter up here?"  
   "Sure can. What about Tiny?"  
   "I'm thinking _not just yet_."  
  
   Peter and Micky sat silently as Tony filled them in on the situation with Davy, Micky in particular having a difficult time accepting the possibility.  
   "I know this is very hard to hear, especially for _you_ amici, but if Davy has a problem we have to address it head on."  
   "I know that, it's just.. _wow_."  
   "I cain't believe our little Tiny is swallowing pills like this, he's _not_ the partying type."  
   "It isn't necessarily _about_ partying Mike, quite simply his body became used to getting the medicine, and now he's dependent. I just hope he's _only_ swallowing."  
   "Whatta you mean?"  
   "There are a number of ways to use these pills recreationally; swallowing them is _rare_ for an addict. More common is for them to snort or _inject_ the medication for a faster, more potent reaction."  
   Eyes widening, Micky snapped his head up.  
   "Mike, when was the last time we had powdered doughnuts in the house?"  
   "Been at least a few months, why?"  
   " _Shit_! The other day Davy had white powdery stuff on his nose. When I mentioned it, he seemed a little flustered and he said he'd ate the last powdered doughnut."  
   "There you go," Tony said, shaking his head sadly, "but _how_? How did he even _**know**_ to do it that way?"  
   "People who sell drugs are excellent teachers," Peter spoke up, "if they supply you with it, they'll tell you _how_ to get the best results."  
   "So who's he getting it from?"  
   "Believe me Micky," Tony said intently, "I _intend_ to find out!"  
   "When are you gonna talk to him?"  
   "He should be wrapping things up any time next door; when he comes home we'll sit him down and confront him together. I'll handle it, but as a family I'd like you three to be here for support."  
   "I can't believe this," Micky said, "I don't think I know how to even _feel_ right now."  
   "It explains a lot more about the way Tiny's been acting."  
   "I was hoping for more of an opportunity to prepare for this, but I don't see a point in putting it off. The sooner we get this out in the open, the sooner we can get him in treatment."  
   "I think I hear him coming," Peter said.  
   Sweaty and barefoot Davy came in through the bay doors, grass-stained sneakers in his right hand.  
   "I'm wiped out, s'been a while since I've mowed the lawn - its bloody _hot work_!"  
   Stripping off his shirt he mopped his forehead, dropping his shirt and shoes in the corner. Coming into the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of ice water, draining it in one long swallow.  
   "Have a seat Davy; I need to talk to you about something."  
   Refilling the glass, he took his usual place next to Micky. Noting the somber faces around him, he attempted a bit of humor.  
   "I didn't do it and ya cahn't prove it cuz ya didn't see me," he laughed half-heartedly. When no one else joined in, he took on a tenser pose.  
   "I have a serious question to ask you kiddo, and I'm counting on you to tell me the truth. You're among family; nobody here has anything but love and concern for you."  
   " ... Okay, wha's the question?"  
   "Are you taking pain medication still Davy?"  
   "Wha'? Dr. Bowen stopped _giving_ them to me. _Course_ I'm not."  
   "Kiddo, I have _good reason_ to believe that you are. _Please_ , don't be afraid to tell us, we all just want to help."  
   "Tony m'not lying, why would I take pain pills when I'm not in pain anymore?"  
   "So if I search through your things I won't find anything I shouldn't?"  
   "Now _tha's_ fucked up, why cahn't ya just take my _word_ fer it?"  
   With a heavy sigh, Tony retrieved the two bottles from his pocket, setting them on the table in front of him.  
   "You want to try this _one more time_ Davy?"  
   Paling visibly Davy swallowed nervously, staring at the evidence brought to his attention.  
   "I dunno what you've got there, but if yer thinkin it's mine, yer wrong."  
   "Kiddo the blood work Dr. Scott did today will tell me one way or the _other_ , so you might as well come clean."  
   His head lowered Davy raked a hand through his hair. Unable to meet the gazes of those around him he sat quietly staring at the table. Heart pounding, voice trembling, he finally managed to find his tongue. Without looking up, he spoke softly.  
   "I uh.. I _think I 'ave a problem_."  
   "Okay Davy, that was the first step. Before we go any further, tell me - do you have anything else stashed away upstairs?"  
   "No sir, the othah bottle is empty."  
   "You bought it off the street?"  
   "Yes."  
   "Who is selling it to you?"  
   "Man that's a **cop** question!" Peter interjected.  
   "I cahn't tell you that."  
   "Little one-" Micky began.  
   "D'ya understand wha's gonna _happen_ to me if I tell you guys! You think I got me arse beat in **_jail_**? I'll be **pulverized**!"  
   "He's right man, you don't tell _names_ \- snitches get stitches."  
   "Davy I promise you that it will not go beyond the five of us - no police - no talking to him or her. Agreed gentleman?"  
   "Of course babe."  
   "Absolutely Tiny."  
   "I would _never_ say anything Davy, but it's **your** decision. I'm not gonna push you to tell, one way or another."  
   "Thanks Petah."  
   "Davy?"  
   " ... I cahn't b' _lieve_ m'doin this. I got em from _**Rocket**_ , okay."  
   "How did I know!" Mike said angrily.  
   "Look this isn't about how or _where_ I got the pills."  
   "Not at this point, no. You pay cash for them?"  
   "Well 'e doesn't take American Express."  
   "I see. Do you have your ID on you kiddo?"  
   "No, s'upstairs in my wallet. _Why_?"  
   "Will you go up and get your wallet please?"  
   "Wha' for?"  
   "Please, go get your wallet."  
   When Davy was out of earshot, Tony stood up from the table.  
   "I'll be right back, I have to make a quick call. If he gets back before me, keep him _here_."  
   "We'll do our best, he can be an ornery lil cuss."  
   Stepping out the front door, Tony made his private call, managing to finish up and get back inside before Davy came back downstairs.  
   "Would one of you mind putting on a pot of coffee or tea? We'll be having company shortly - but not a word about it to Davy!"  
   "I'll make both," Peter volunteered.  
   "Thank you Peter. I wonder what's keeping Davy?"  
   As if by magic the young Englishman materialized at the top of the stairs at the mention if his name.  
   "Sorry bout that, I wanted to f-freshen up n change clothes."  
   "I can understand that. Have a seat Davy. "  
   "Coffees on and so is the tea kettle, won't be long now."  
   "Did you bring your wallet?"  
   "Right 'ere, but I don't understand why you want my drivers license."  
   "I don't kiddo. Assuming you're not going to be placed in a treatment facility, I intend to remove every opportunity you have to buy any more pills. I want your credit cards, bank cards and _all_ of your cash."  
   "Are you _kidding_ me?"  
   "Not in the least."  
   "Tha's not right, yer taking all my freedom away - I cahn't even buy _deodorant_ or clothes if I need them!"  
   "You know better than to think I'd let you go without **_anything_** you need. I can either buy it for you or take you shopping."  
   "Suppose I wanna buy a pizza or go to a _movie_?"  
   "Again, _**IF**_ you don't wind up inpatient someplace, that's not going to be an issue either - you will _not_ be leaving the house alone or without permission until further notice. Cards and cash, _please_."  
   "This is bloody _bullshit_!" He said, jumping up from his chair, "I've got half a mind to pack up and go back to _**fucking England**_!"  
   "That's your decision kiddo - meanwhile you'll mind your language."  
   "You mean you'd just _GO_?" Micky asked, hurt in his eyes, "because of a few restrictions meant to protect you - help you? Leave me, _**just like that**_?!"  
   "It's not _about_ you - this is just **wrong**!"  
   "Its very simple Davy, play by these rules or go into a treatment facility. If you want to go back to England, you can be certain I will make sure that they understand _why_. Now, calm down, sit down and give me the things I've asked for."  
   His back against the proverbial wall Davy reluctantly took his seat. As he thumbed through his wallet fishing for the cards in question, there came a sharp knock at the front door.  
   "I'll get that," Mike said, hurrying across the room.  
   "Now the cash please."  
   Emptying his billfold Davy stood and turned out both front pockets, handing over all the money he had on him.  
   "Is this all the money you have kiddo?"  
   "I think there's twelve cents up on my night stand, ya want _tha'_ too?"  
   "Sure, if you're going to be a smart aleck, why not."  
   "Tony," Mike said from behind him, "you have a visitor."  
   Davy's mouth dropped open in utter shock to see Paul Scott standing beside Mike.  
   "Wha's all this 'ere, droppin' in _fer tea_?"  
   "I asked Paul to stop by Davy; he was kind enough to take time out of his personal life to be here for you."  
   "Hello Davy, mind if I sit and talk with you and your family?"  
   "You pulling a **_string_** on me Tony?" Davy asked, panic in his young eyes.  
   " _Absolutely_ _not_! I thought we'd benefit from a professional's assistance and opinion, and that is **all**!"  
   "You seem a little uptight Davy, what's your concern son?"  
   "Concern? No _concern_. My **FACT** is that I'll be bloody _**gone**_ before _ANYONE_ locks me up in a padded room someplace!"  
   "I was rather hoping we could do an outpatient treatment plan for you, but it's something you'd have to cooperate with. Are you willing to do that David?"  
   "Please little one, _please_."  
   "We just wanna help you Tiny."  
   "Davy, I'm hardly the best role model. I do a lot of things that most people think are way out there to expand my mind. I'll probably always smoke a little grass, but if it will help you, I'll give up _everything else_ to support you in doing this. We'll quit together."  
   "Kiddo, we're not trying to hurt or control you, we love you Davy and we want you back. What do you think kiddo?"  
   "Coffees ready, so is the tea."  
   "Tell you what," Paul said, "how about you and I get a cup of coffee or tea and take a little walk on the beach, talk for a bit. Can you do that David?"  
   "N- _no_ tricks? No _s-strings_?"  
   "You have my word, just a little impromptu session."  
   "Alright then - b-but I need a pill or s-something - m'coming apart."  
   Paul whispered to Tony and he nodded briefly. Helping himself to a cup of coffee, he turned to his panicky patient.  
   "For _ethical_ reasons I'm going to step outside. Tony will explain the rest, and when you're ready, we'll take that walk."  
   "O-okay."  
   When Paul had closed the door behind him, Tony sighed and turned to the boys.  
   "Okay, this is about to get real. Anybody wants to step out _now's the time_."  
   "W-wha's going on - are you gonna _p-punish_ me?"  
   "No Davy, _no_! Sit down kiddo, it’s alright. Tell me honestly Davy, when did you last use?"  
   "About four o'clock this morning. Why?"  
   "How often do you usually have a pill or pills?"  
   "I.. I've been taking three or four every five to six hours."  
   "Yaa. That's what I figured; you’re going into withdrawal. Paul made it clear that until a proper substitute is scripted to you, it's dangerous to cut you off cold. So, here's the deal: I'll give you two Percocet now and more every so often per Paul's guidelines until you have a replacement medication. _However_ \- and I don't care _**how**_ you do it - you'll take them here at the table, in front of at _least_ me. Deal?"  
   "P-please, _**yes**_. Just l-let me 'ave the pills."  
   "Do you want anyone else to step out Davy?"  
   "If they can b-be 'ere without j-judging me, then no."  
   "You're not going to eat them, are you?"  
   "N-no, m'not."  
   "What do you need?"  
   "A p-pocket knife, a straw and a s-small glass of water.”  
   "I'll get the water and the straw."  
   "I reckon you can use my knife Tiny."  
   "You alright Micky?"  
   "I guess so, just a little weirded out."  
   "Do you want to step out amici?"  
   "No, I'm with him for the long haul, good or bad, _easy or hard_."  
   Clearly not expecting his words, Davy turned to him, hope and shame mixed on his pale face.  
   "Thank you," he whispered.  
   Tony and the others sat spellbound, watching transfixed as Davy performed the ritual he had learned so well of late: With the flat side of the knife, he smashed both tablets into small crumbs. Using the blade, he ground the crumbs into a fine white powder, looking much like a coarse flour. Dividing the pile in half he began shaping it into two lines, lengthening and narrowing them as he went. Satisfied with his work, he cut the straw down to a three-inch length, tossing the excess piece aside.  
   "Last chance to d-duck out," Davy warned.  
   When nobody moved he carried on with his task; his need strong - his pain mounting.  
   Placing the straw segment in his right nostril and blocking the left, he lined it up with the first section of white powder. Sniffing slowly and deeply he inhaled the entire length, tipping his head back when he was through. Switching to the other side of his nose, he repeated the process with the remaining crushed tablet. Dropping the straw, he dipped two fingers into the water, sniffing the drops into his nose.  
   Eyes closed he waited for the relief to come, hands clasped behind his head. Beside him, a single tear ran down Micky's cheek. Peter looked away, sad to see his young friend come to such a state. Against his natural grain, Mike too was feeling the agony that brought a tear to Micky's eyes. Ever the stoic, he clenched his fists, refusing to show his emotions.  
   "Whenever you're ready Davy," Tony said softly, "Paul is waiting for you out back."  
   Looking up at him Davy appeared calm, his hunger temporarily sated he was finally able to relax.  
   "Right, we shouldn't be too long."  
   He stood up to go and squeezed Micky's shoulder as he passed by. Slipping out the bay doors he disappeared from sight, allowing everyone to release the breath they'd been unconsciously holding.  
   " _Damn_ ," Mike breathed.  
   " _No **shit**_ **,** " Micky agreed.  
   "That has to be the hardest thing I've done in a long, _long_ time," Tony said, collapsing into his seat.  
   "It's still **_Davy_** ," Peter spoke up, "He's still the same sweet, wonderful, caring funny guy we **all love**. Only _now_ , he has a problem. He still has feelings and needs, still wants to laugh and be loved."  
   "Very well said Peter. Along with the love, though he is going to need our strength, support and determination to keep him on track with this. It's going to be the most difficult for you, Micky, but I know you love him enough that when you feel weak, you'll step back and let the rest of us handle him."  
   "I'll have to, I want him better - I want him _back_."  
   "This is going to get much harder before it gets better, it’s going to take a lot of patience and will. I hope you're all up to the challenge. If not - he'll _have_ to go inpatient."  
   "I'm in, no matter what."  
   "Me too man, that's my little one."  
   "He's an ornery lil cuss and I _still_ wanna take him over my knee - but I'll do _**anything**_ to help get Tiny offa that crap."  
   "Okay, so it's up to him and Paul to decide what happens from here. Let's just hope it's the right choice."


	9. Chapter 9

    Forty-five minutes later Davy and Paul returned from the beach. At Paul's request, Davy waited in his room while he and the rest of the family talked.  
   "I _really_ feel he's in the right frame of mind to do outpatient treatment, he was very candid about the facts of his dependency and is eager to kick it to the curb."  
   "What about the withdrawal symptoms, isn't that gonna be hard to manage at home?"  
   "Mike is it? I'll be prescribing him a high-level substitution medication called Suboxone, as well as a time-released dosage of the Adderall for anxiety. With that and his tri-weekly sessions it shouldn't be too difficult."  
   "I've already cut off his access to any cash flow, and he won't be allowed out of the house alone for the time being. What else can we do to help ensure he stays on the straight and narrow?"  
   "Close monitoring of his whereabouts is key, any medicines in the home should be under lock and key including his prescriptions. Alcohol use should be minimal if any, and there need to be strict rules and definite accountability on his part."  
   "What happens if it doesn't work out?"  
   "Well Micky, Davy is well aware that failure to comply and succeed on an outpatient basis will land him in a live-in treatment program. I'm sure he'll have some issues along the way, but I believe he _can_ do this."  
   "Do you think he'll start having panic attacks again?"  
   "Most likely in the beginning Peter, but between the adderall and the lorazepam Tony has on hand, it should be manageable. If not, you'll have my emergency number - and there's always mobile crisis."  
   "I appreciate you taking time to come here this afternoon; you've gone beyond your obligation here Paul. Unless there's something more, I'll walk you out."  
   "I'll write out a dosing schedule for the Percocet until we can get his scripts written - which probably won't be until Monday. Beyond any questions you may have. I think that's about it."  
   "Alright, thanks again."  
                                                                                      *****  
  When Paul was gone, Tony set everyone to task Davy-proofing the house. Mike and Peter worked to gather all medications in the place while Tony drove to town to purchase two lockboxes. Micky was sent upstairs to keep an eye on his wayward boyfriend, who was currently moping in his room.  
   "Hey," Micky said, slipping into the bed next to Davy.  
   "Hey."  
   "So, you wanna play cards or something?"  
   "Not really."  
   "Oh. How about checkers or backgammon?"  
   "M'really not in the mood."  
   "Oh."  
   "I could make us a snack."  
   "No, thanks."  
   Running out of ideas, Micky sat staring straight ahead, not knowing exactly what to say. Time crawled by as they both sat silently, sighing and picking at the fuzz on the bedspread.  
   "Micky?" Davy said timidly, breaking the tense quiet.  
   "Yaa?"  
   "Do you.. still _love_ me?"  
   "Are you _kidding_ me? You have to _**ASK**_ me that?"  
   "I _really_ fucked up; I wouldn't blame you if you don't."  
   "Would you stop loving _me_ if the situation were reversed?"  
   "Of course not!"  
   "Well alright then! Listen up little one; I'm not so _easy_ to shake off. I don't know how they do things where you come from, but in **_my_** neck of the woods, we do not turn tail and run from the people we are with because they screw up. I _love you_ David Jones, like it or not, you're stuck with me!'  
   "Yaa?" He smiled a tiny grin.  
   "Yaa. Don't make me wrestle you down and tickle your little ass, cuz _I will_ \- until you believe every word!"  
   "Okay, alright I believe you! _No tickling_ , you know I cahn't _**take**_ that!"  
   "Then don't _ever_ doubt it again - or I swear I'll tie you to the bed and tickle you till you _beg_!"  
   "I love you too Micky," he smiled broadly, "I'm _gonna_ fix this, I am."  
   "I believe in you cookie, and we're all here for you. It's gonna be okay."  
   "Davy - Micky," Tony called, "could you come down here please?"  
   "Oh boy, ' _ere_ we go."  
   "Mellow out; just relax and take it one step at a time. Come on."  
  
   Tony, Mike and Peter were in the living room waiting for Davy and Micky. When the boys came down, Tony invited them to join them there.  
   "Alright, I wanted everyone present while I laid out the ground rules for you kiddo, so there's no confusion about what is and is not allowed from here on out. All of you please, pay careful attention. "  
   "Wouldn't it be _easier_ to write a booklet?" Davy asked with a laugh.  
   "Don't be so hasty with the wisecracks, while there are a lot of new rules it isn't going to be _THAT_ overwhelming. First off, no access whatsoever to money - that includes cash, credit cards and bankcards. Davy does not get any kind of medication - not even a _Tylenol or cough drop_ without my permission. All medicines from both houses are now in lockboxes. I have a key and I'm giving the other key to Mike."  
   "Why him, why not _me_?"  
   "Amici I mean you no offense, but if I entrusted you with this responsibility it would be a difficult task for you to say no to Davy if enough pressure were applied. There may be a time when you'll be in a position to give him his dose, but **ANYONE** who administers him medication will sign and date this log, with the time: Failure to do so will force me to move Davy home with me till this is over, do _not_ doubt me!"  
   Micky and Davy exchanged wary glances, knowing full well that he would do it.  
   "Davy, you are not to set foot outside of this house unescorted and without my knowledge, not even to check the mailbox. If there's somewhere you want or need to go, somebody else will drive you - most likely me."  
   "Tha's just _not_ right; I'm gonna be a prisoner in my _own home_!"  
   "Not true, you'll still go to restaurants, the movies even the beach; but until further notice _not_ alone and not without _**my**_ permission. Next, no alcohol, **period**."  
   "Wha' about Sunday dinner?"  
   "I'm sorry Davy I'm afraid not. That may change over time - _any_ of these rules can - based on how well you hold up your end of the bargain. "  
   "So 'ow am I gonna know that?"  
   "If you feel you've earned a change in privileges, talk to me. We will discuss it and if I think it's merited, I'll make some changes. In the same turn, if something arises that brings about the need for a new rule or restriction, I reserve the right to add to these limitations as I see fit. The last thing on my list at this point is not negotiable."  
   "Wha's that?"  
   "Stay away from Ben Worthington. _No arguments_."  
   " ... Yessir, I understand."  
   "That's about it for the moment, do you have any questions?"  
   "Just one. When do I get me next erm _dose_?"  
   "Paul and I both did some calculations. Based on what you indicated you've bought and when, with what you have left, you've been using an average of a hundred eighty to two hundred twenty milligrams a day."  
   Mike let out a long, low whistle. Mouth agape, Peter just stared.  
   " _WOW_!" Micky exclaimed, " _ **Damn**_ Davy!"  
   "Lay orf _will_ ya fellas, **fuck**!"  
   "Mind your tongue, you _know_ I don't like that word Davy. As for the comments, I understand how they would be hurtful. However, I'm sure it isn't meant to be, it's just a lot to swallow kiddo. At any rate, until you have a substitute, you will get three at a time every five hours. Which gives you about another hour to go."  
   "Ugh, tha's a _long time_!"  
   "I just remembered one other thing. You are subject at any given time I deem it necessary to submit to a drug test either here at home or in Paul's office. Refusal will be considered a positive result and you'll be transferred into inpatient treatment immediately."  
   "Tha's a bit _fascist_ doncha think? Wha' if I cahn't piss?"  
   "I have nothing but time kiddo; I can stand there and wait all day long."  
   "Wai' a _minit_ \- d'ya mean to tell me yer gonna **WATCH**?!"  
   "Every single time."  
   Scowling, Davy flopped back against the sofa cushion, arms folded across his chest like a child pouting over a denied privilege.  
   "Tha's just wrong on so _many_ levels," he said, shaking his head, "are ya sure yer not just trying to get another _wicked look_ at my package?"  
   " _ **Excuse me**_?!" Tony said, mild outrage etched into his features.  
   Acting quickly Micky clamped a hand over Davy's mouth, preventing him from earning a quick ass-whipping from the incensed Italian across the room.  
   "What he _REALLY_ meant is he'd be a little embarrassed but he _won't_ argue the point," he supplied for his now struggling boyfriend.  
   "I'm going home while my temper is relatively in check - here's the other key Mike. Please keep it someplace where only you will have access to it. I'll be back in n hour with his dose."  
   Without a backwards glance he was up and out the door, his boot heels clicking sharply on the floor as he crossed the room. Squirming out of Micky's grasp, Davy too shot to his feet.  
   "Will yer _cut it out_ , I'm _**perfectly**_ capable of speaking fer meself!"  
   "You're perfectly capable of running that cocky _mouth_ of yours till you get whacked upside the head by a big ol Italian fist! All _I_ did was get you outta trouble little one!"  
   "Yaa whatever."  
   "Simmer down shotgun, you're just a might edgy cuz ya want them pills. Don't get your tumblweeds in a tizzy."  
   "Listen you I-"  
   Instinctively, Micky once again capped the spouting fountain that was Davy's pie-hole, leading him toward the stairs to safety. Once behind closed doors, Davy broke free from his vise-like grip.  
   "Yer stahrtin' to get on me _nerves_ with tha'!"  
   "We really, really, **_REALLY_** need to work on your timing or your need to get the last word in, cuz one of em are gonna get you _hurt_."  
   " ** _Fuck you_** Micky!"  
   "Okay, but ya _hafta_ use lube."  
   The fast comeback said with a straight face did the trick, putting a huge grin on Davy's previously sour puss. Leave it to Micky to break the spell every time.  
   "Ahh _God thank you_ , I **needed** that. Yer the only one who can make me laugh when I'm ready to throttle somebody."  
   "It’s this face - it's a classic - _impossible_ to resist."  
   "Yaa, right along with everythin’ _else_ that's attached to it. C’mere you."  
   Tumbling onto the bed Davy pulled Micky down on top of him lavishing him with kisses, his hands exploring the slim torso eagerly.  
   "Wow cookie, still feeling a bit _aggressive_?"  
   "I've got nearly an hour to kill, I figure there's gotta be _SOMETHING_ we could think up to pass the time."  
   "This _IS_ my favorite thinking position. I dare say; it seems to me that you’re wearing entirely too many clothes mister. What's say we remedy that situation?"  
   "By all means yes, cahn't 'ave _that_ now can we?"  
   Pulling his shirt over his head Davy lifted his hips obligingly, allowing Micky to slide his now-unzipped jeans off of him.  
   " _Commando_?" Micky asked, delightfully surprised.  
   "Erm, I was in a hurry," he grinned.  
   "You won't get any complaints from me."  
   Leaning forward he licked a quick stripe up the underside of Davy's already full erection, eliciting a yelp from above his head.  
   "Alright, _no_ teasing!"  
   "Just a preview."  
   "Speaking of views, I'm feeling a bit naked 'ere with you still fully dressed, 'ow bout giving a mate something bettah to _look_ at than a cotton t-shirt?"  
   "Oh you want me to undress huh?"  
   "Be smashing of you."  
   "You wanna glimpse of this smokin-hot body?"  
   "A glimpse, a taste and _more_!"  
   "Well now how can I refuse such a convincing argument?"  
   Standing beside the bed Micky made a seductive show of stripping down to his birthday suit, Davy drooling and all eyes.  
Crawling up the bed with a lecherous grin Micky went for Davy's earlobe, knowing it was his weak spot, kissing and licking as he ground against him with his hungry cock.  
   "Tell me what you want little one."  
   "I want you inside me; _screw_ the foreplay - **fuck** me Micky.”  
   "Whatever you say babe."  
   Eager to accommodate him Micky wasted no time locating the lube, generously coating his hardness. The dark, lustful eyes gazing up at him urging him on he dispensed with all polite etiquette, lining up immediately with the furrowed entrance waiting to pleasure him.  
   Drawing his knees close to his chest, Davy licked his lips, a smoldering desire radiating from his face.  
   "Give it to me good babe, lemme _know_ who's in charge."  
   "Okay cookie, but remember - you **_asked_** for it."  
   His desire stoked Micky shoved ruthlessly forward, slamming his hips against the firm round backside presented to him. Stifling a cry Davy bit into his own lip, the searing pain in his ass both gratifying and torturous in one strike. Steeling himself, Micky fought back the dizzying pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him, the incredible heat and Davy's clenching sending electric thrills through his screaming cock. In a steady rhythm, he pounded into the tiny channel with no mercy, alternating between short hard jabs and deep thrusts. The ceaseless litany of pleading moans proceeding from his lover's mouth intensified as he bit down roughly on the tiny pink peak that was his left nipple, soothing it with erotic laps of his silky tongue. His own fervor mounting, Davy clutched at him, his short nails leaving thin bloody lines along the graceful curve of his back.  
   "So hot, _oh Micky_!"  
   "Touch yourself Davy, I wanna _see_ you cum."  
   Hungry with passion Davy obeyed, his right hand flanking his red and pulsing shaft at a mindless fiery pace. Combined with the smooth, cyclic prodding of his prostate by his lover's ravenous cock, he crossed his threshold, exploding with a rapturous cry for mercy.  
   The twisted face of ecstasy beneath him fueled Micky's carnal fire. Driving deeper, he thrust himself forward once - twice - burying himself on the third and final lunge, filling his lover's ass with a shuddering moan.  
   His arms weak and shaky Micky collapsed onto Davy's quivering body, their sweat mingling, their breath coming in matching ragged gasps. Slipping to the mattress he lay beside his little one, the two struggling to catch their breath, lost in each other’s eyes.  
   "My God that was _so_ hot - _damn_ Davy!"  
   "You," Davy panted, "you _hafta_.. do _that_.. again. _**Soon**_."


	10. Chapter 10

   True to his word, Tony was back an hour later with Davy's allotted three pills. Despite his dislike for the method with which he chose to use them, he dutifully sat watching until all three tablets had been consumed; As distasteful as it was he would leave no opportunity for Davy to stockpile any medication.  
   All of his other needs satisfied for the moment Davy had only one thing left on his mind - food. The events of the day had thrown the five young men off schedule, and with suppertime fast approaching stomachs were growling in every corner of the house. As usual in such a predicament, Tony came to the rescue.  
   "I can only suggest that we either order take-out, or I run to the market and pick up some things for a light meal."  
   "How light," Micky asked, "I _totally_ just worked up an appetite."  
   "Oh _PLEASE_ \- _**no details**_ \- you know I have a visual imagination. I was thinking of ciabatta rolls, several deli meats and cheeses, some antipasto, a pasta salad and some sort of rich sweet bread."  
   "Sounds good to me, I could eat a _huge_ sandwich!"  
   "I'll go along with that," Mike smiled, "If you don't mind throwing in some jalapenos to go alongside."  
   "Can do. Any other requests?"  
   "A good crunchy lettuce for the hoagies!"  
   "Lettuce for Micky."  
   "We're out of cokes."  
   "Drinks for Davy. Peter?"  
   "Horseradish. I _love_ it on a turkey sandwich."  
   "Alrighty, I shouldn't be long. Davy is there anything you need while I'm going out?"  
   "Toothpaste and a couple of magazines?"  
   "Anything in particular?"  
   "As long as it's not about sports I don't care. Music, 'orses, cars or celebrities is good."  
   "Okay kiddo I'll see what I can come up with."

  Returning from the market Tony knew immediately that something was wrong. Approaching the door he could hear Davy wailing, demanding to be let go. The house was in utter shambles, with chairs overturned, curtains ripped from the window and shards of broken glass littering the kitchen floor. Behind the larger of the two sofas, Davy lay on his stomach on the floor. Mike was straddling his back, holding on for dear life as the angry teen bucked like a wild horse, attempting to dislodge the human paperweight.  
   "LEMME **GO** YOU _BLOODY ARSE HOLE_ \- _LEMME **UP**_ I TELL YOU!"  
   "What in the **HOLY HELL** is going on?" Tony demanded.  
   "Mike's trying to play fathah knows best again!  
   With a sharp jab to his ribs, Mike effectively ended Davy's ranting for a moment.  
   "Ol slick here thought he was gonna suck down a glass of beer when nobody was a lookin' - _MY_ beer. I happened to catch him and he takes off running with my favorite mug like it's a game of cat n mouse, sipping as he goes. I decided a little reverse psychology was better n chasing after him, so I snatched up his favorite shirt from the dryer. Took a pair of scissors up n told him we'd trade even up - he gives me back my mug o beer n I would let his t-shirt live a long n happy life. He said I wouldn't dare and took another swaller. So I cut his shirt collar - up the _seam_ \- and the ornery lil cuss threw my _fucking mug_ _at me_! Shattered it _**right next to my head**_!"  
   "I'm sorry I missed you, ya _stupid prick_!"  
   At this verbal onslaught, Mike promptly delivered another painful thump to Davy’s ribcage.  
   "I'd appreciate it if you'd leave the physicalities to me Mike. I understand you're angry - and _rightly so_ , but I’d like you to stop hitting him.  
   "Yaa!" Davy squawked.  
   " **YOU** had better shut that mouth of yours kiddo, you're in enough hot water as it is! In just a moment, Mike is going to let you up. When he does, you are going to be calm, behave and keep your mouth shut while you clean up this mess. Then you're going to go upstairs for the rest of the night - I'll send you a dinner tray. _Capiche_?"  
   "Tha's fucked up!"  
   "One more word Davy and you'll be punished much further."  
   Fuming but silent Davy seethed beneath Mike’s weight, fists clenched in angry defiance.  
   "Mike if you will."  
   Wary of the raging bull on the carpet below him, Mike held the feisty youth in place as he gained his feet, quickly stepping out of reach. In an instant Davy was up, his eyes ablaze with unbridled rage. Turning to face the lanky Texan he opened his mouth, a venomous tirade ready to spill forth.  
   "I strongly recommend you reconsider," Tony warned, "you're looking at serious discipline now Davy, don't force me to turn to _corporal_ punishment."  
   " _Please_ Davy," Micky spoke up, "please just do what he says."  
   Looking into Micky's pleading heartfelt stare he let out a heavy breath, forcing himself to calm down. A trembling hand raked through his hair as he fought the urge to run for the door escaping to the beach below. Eyes still locked with Micky's he finally admitted defeat, offering a simple brief nod of surrender.  
   Wordlessly, he went about the matter of straightening the room, grasping for the first time the reality of the aftermath of his actions. Tears of frustration filled his eyes as he cleaned up the shattered remains of Mike's boot-shaped mug he had brought all the way from Texas, sudden pangs of guilt burning in his midsection.  
   Having put everything back as it should be, he picked up the shirt that Mike had threatened to destroy - his own fault for certain - would that he'd only done as Mike had asked. The tears flowing freely now he gripped the shirt on either side of the snipped seam, and with a self-loathing he'd never known ripped it in two. Dropping the shredded cloth in the trashcan he plodded up the stairs, shoulders slumped, and went into his room.  
   "Well I'll be a _son-of-a_ -"  
   "Michael …"  
   "Yaa shotgun?"  
   "I think that means he's sorry."  
   "I'd say you're probably right Cotton."

   When everyone had eaten, Tony went upstairs and knocked on the door to Micky and Davy's room.  
   "It's open."  
   "Hey kiddo," Tony said, closing the door behind him, "I wanted to see what you want on your sandwich; I'm getting ready to make your tray."  
   "I don't even deserve a meal; I don't deserve _any of you_."  
   "We'll deal with your behavior after you've had some dinner, you can _count_ on it - but self deprivation isn't going to help. So, about the sandwich."  
   "What do we 'ave?" he sighed.  
   "Turkey, salami, pastrami, roast beef and honey ham."  
   "Is pastrami and roast beef okay?"  
   "Cheddar, provolone, muenster or havarti?"  
   "Cheddar and havarti."  
   "Mustard, mayonnaise, horseradish - Italian dressing?"  
   "Horseradish and mayo please."  
   "Any accoutrements?"  
   "Lettuce and tomato on the side?"  
   "You want all the trimmings?"  
   "If I may."  
   "I'll bring you a coke to drink; do you want dessert as well? I picked up an Italian cream cake."  
   "Yes, please."  
   "Give me a few minutes kiddo."  
   "Yessir, thank you Tony."

  When Tony returned, he handed Davy a tray loaded with food. Aside from the enormous sandwich was a succulent Italian pasta salad, a plate of jalapenos, pepperoncini, olives, cherry tomatoes, a hunk of lettuce and a pickle wedge, a tall glass of icy cold coke and a large piece of cake.  
   " _ **Wow**_! I didn't expect s'much food, _thank_ you!"  
   "I'm not going to hold back on food or any other rights Davy just because you went stupid. You eat, _I'll_ do the talking."  
   "Erm, okay."  
   "First off, if I'm not mistaken I believe that I told you just a few hours ago _**no**_ alcohol. You directly disobeyed my instructions breaking a very important rule. _Why_?"  
   Swallowing a mouthful of food, Davy ducked his head, finding it suddenly very hard to look Tony in the eyes.  
   "I don't have an ahnsah fer that, not even a _bad excuse_."  
   "So you just wanted to drink? Wanted to aggravate Mike? To see what you could pull off behind my back?"  
   Two honey-brown pools gazed up at him behind long dark lashes, a mixture of shame and trepidation in their liquid depths.  
   "I .. I don't know."  
   "Then, knowing full well that I would expect you to obey Mike under such circumstances, you defy him, make him give chase - wrecking the house and wreaking havoc all through the place?"  
   At this point Davy had stopped eating, his stomach twisting, his appetite having vanished with his voice. Staring down at the bed, he couldn't even manage a nod.  
   "Then that stunt you pulled that could have easily cost Mike dearly - not just in losing a cherished possession but _damn_ Davy - what if you'd have _**hit** _ him with that glass?!"  
   "I was angry - 'e cut my favorite shirt! I didn't intend to throw the glass, it was.. just a _reaction_."  
   "What's it going to take kiddo? Am I going to have to keep you by my side _everywhere_ I go? Just to keep you in line?"  
   "No."  
   "It's starting to look exactly like that Davy. Believe me; before I get trapped in a pattern of running over here every five minutes, I will assert _MAJOR_ changes to get things in hand. One more idiotic move like that from you and I will pack you up and move you home with me!"  
   "No Tony, _please_ don't! Don't misunderstand, s'not that I don't like you or anything, but I _need_ to be with Micky!"  
   "You don't have to explain Davy I already realize the reasons why. This is my decision to make, but ultimately it’s you who will determine whether or not I have to make it! I get that this is going to be a very hard road for you, recovery always is. We're all expecting _some_ degree of irritability and perhaps even attitude from you over the course of the next few months. Erratic and dangerous behavior however is **_not acceptable_** on any level and will be dealt with immediately and harshly. The ball is in your court."  
   "I understand. I'll do bettah, if it takes me skin off."  
   "I want you to finish your dinner; regardless of how dangerous it may be to cut you off abruptly I refuse to keep feeding you narcotics if you're not going to eat."  
   "So I'm staying 'ere?"  
   "For the time being, yes."  
   "Thanks Tony, I'll clean my plate I promise."  
   "I'm going downstairs to talk with the boys. You should be aware that I'm advising them that you are to obey reasonable instructions from _ANY_ of them in my absence. I'm going to make it clear as well that you are to be handled properly - no destroying your possessions - no corporal action. I did not appreciate Mike hitting you earlier. It wasn't necessary and isn't going to continue."  
   "You'd _do_ tha' fer me?"  
   "I'm not going to allow anyone to bully you any more than I'll allow you to terrorize the household. If you're out of control, restraining you is obviously fair play, so keep that in mind. I'll see you at nine o'clock with your pills. You're to stay in here for the remainder of the night."  
   "Yessir."  
                                                                                      *****  
  In the kitchen, Peter and Micky were cleaning up from dinner. Taking a moment alone with Mike Tony had a heart to heart chat with him out on the back patio.  
   "I want first to tell you Mike that I have much respect for you. As Davy's guardian I feel you and I need to come to terms on some things, but by no means do I want to sound condescending, or seem that I hold myself above you - as I do not."  
   "Alright, I think we can talk to each other just fine. We're both fairly simple men and relatively intelligent, communication is important for good understanding."  
   "I agree. You and I are very much alike - logical, wordy and natural leaders. I see you playing the role of Papa here with the others; in spite of the fact that Peter is the oldest and you're all fairly close in age. You do it very well I might add and surely they would be floundering without you."  
   "Thank you. It's hard sometimes to know just where responsibility ends and friendship picks up, the line gets blurred and I don't know if I'm doing too much or _not enough_."  
   "Don't over analyze it, you'll second guess yourself into trouble. Take Davy for example: I'll be the very first to agree that he owes you respect in your home, should follow your rules and in my absence should certainly heed you as if you were in charge."  
   "Life rules really, show respect, obey your elders - appreciate the home you're given."  
   "Quite right. On the other side of this coin, we have a nineteen year old man - a youth still truthfully - who considers you his peer, looks up to you in many ways and wants very much for you to consider him your friend."  
   "Tiny is my friend!"  
   "He'd also like to think that _you_ are _his_."  
   "I am. Though I suppose it don't much look like it when I've got him pinned to the floor, _does_ it."  
   "I'm sure he questioned it at that point," he chuckled, "Mike of everyone here I'm counting on you the most to help me get this boy back on his feet. Granted, it takes a village, but you and I are the most level-headed by far, and as the leaders of our two blended families - please read between the lines here - I expect you to do better than _punching_ a drug-addicted kid in the ribs when he’s pissed you off."  
   Distant and quiet, Mike's contemplative stare was difficult to read. Patiently and hoping for the best, Tony waited for the other man to speak.  
   "I think the world o that boy, but sometimes he gets under my skin so bad, I just wanna whoop him till he cries uncle. Then there're times when he makes me s'proud I wanna write home about him."  
   "He's definitely a character that one, but not a bad kid. Feisty and mouthy, but I believe it's him wanting to be acknowledged in some way that brings him to that. As if he wants someone to look at him -"  
   "The way he looks up to me. _Dadgum_ I sure set a great example today, didn’t I?”  
   "I don't believe you would act the way you do with Davy if you didn't want so much to shape his life. I know how frustrating it is to be responsible - or at least _FEEL_ responsible for the way a younger person turns out. Sometimes though Mike you have to trust that some of what you've said has gotten through - and sometimes you have to take a joke, or even _be_ one."  
   "Sumthin else I can add to my list of things I've failed at."  
   "I don't think you've failed. You clearly have his full attention, but perhaps altering your _methods_ a bit would draw him in. Being a good leader is more often about guiding than authority. While you have to have both, it's a delicate balance and with Davy and you, a good-natured attitude may make all the difference in the world. One more piece of advice, something I'll live by till the day I die: When you're dealing with kids of any age Mike, try to catch them doing something _good_. If you're always the heavy, eventually they tune you out."  
   "You really think I'm a _natural leader_?"  
   "Absolutely, and someday you're going to make some kid the _best father ever_.”  
   A genuine smile plastered to his face, Mike was touched and more than a little humbled. Uncomfortable with compliments, he was having a hard time responding.  
   "Well, I'm going to head home and shower, I'll be back around nine with Davy's meds. I've grounded him to his room for the rest of the night, he shouldn't be any trouble."  
   "Hey Tony?" Mike called as he stepped onto the sand.  
   "Yes?"  
   "I'm gonna do right by Tiny, the _best_ that I can. Thank you."  
   "I know you will," he smiled, and went on his way.  
                                                            *  
   Later that evening Mike went up to see Davy, hoping he’d let him into his room. Taking a deep breath, he rapped on the door and waited.  
   "Doors open," Davy called.  
   "It's Mike, can I come in Tiny?"  
   ".. I guess so, yaa."  
   Bracing himself for what may be a hostile encounter, he stepped into the room and closed the door.  
   "Alright if I sit down, talk to ya for a bit?"  
   "Sure."  
   "I was thinking about everything that happened earlier today. You pulled a really stupid stunt there Davy - but I was _wrong_ with the way I handled the situation. Apologies don't come easy for me, but basically that's what I'm tryin' to do here."  
   "I owe you an apology too. I don't know why I egg you on Mike; I think yer a _groovy_ guy. I'm sorry I broke yer mug, if ya tell me 'ow to get another one, I promise I'll replace it."  
   "Well Tiny I wouldn't fuss over it none."  
   "I want to, really."  
   "I'm afraid ya cain't. I won that mug in a talent contest back in Houston 'fore I ever left home. _Second prize_."  
   " _Dammit_! Now I _**REALLY**_ feel like an arse. Man I'm so sorry, you can break something of mine if you want to."  
   "No Davy, _no_. I come up here to make peace with you not to stir the shitpot. I wanted to tell you that I'm gonna try n do better, to be a better friend n a better example to you. My first step in that direction is in this here bag.  
   Reaching to the floor, he retrieved a gray plastic shopping bag, handing it over to his young friend.  
   "Wha's this?"  
   "Let's just call it a peace offering."  
   Curious and a little excited Davy looked inside, his eyes widening in shocked surprise. Inside was a brand new shirt, identical to the one in the kitchen trash.  
   "Mike! You shouldn't 'ave _done_ this - I don't **_deserve_ ** it! Not ahftah the way I _treated_ you!"  
   "Maybe Davy it never woulda come to alla that if I'd have acted like the responsible older friend instead of a controlling, demanding tyrant. So please, just take it. Let's you n me try makin a fresh start of things."  
   "I'd like that too. I'll try 'ard Mike, I really don't mean to be so disrespectful. Sometimes I just want you to see me fer something else, and it always comes out _wrong_."  
   "I understand that, the same thing happens with me sometimes."  
   " _ **Really**_?"  
   "Yup. New beginning?" He asked, extending his hand.  
   "Fresh stahrt," Davy smiled, giving him a hearty handshake.  
   "Alright then. Well I'm gonna go, Peter's waiting for me down in our room. I'll see you in the morning."  
   "G'night Mike, and thanks again."  
   "You betcha."  
                                                                                      *****  
   By eight-fifteen Davy was pacing the floor, a jangle of nerves. The lower daily quantity of opiates - far less than he was used to - was merely teasing his enormous craving. Desperate, he rummaged through the medicine cabinet, hoping some scrap had been left behind that would ease the stupor building within him: They had been thorough however, leaving nothing that would enhance his narcotic haze. As a last resort, he picked up his phone. With trembling fingers he punched in Tony's number, praying he would answer quickly.  
   "Hello?"  
   "T-Tony, I need your help, p-please."  
   "I'm on my way kiddo, sit tight!"  
   Out the door and across the yard in a flash, Tony moved like lightning, racing to see what was wrong with his young charge. Bursting into the house next door he headed straight for the stairs, ignoring the stunned stare from Micky who was watching TV in the front room. Casting courtesy aside, he let himself into the bedroom, rushing to Davy who sat rocking and clutching his stomach. Pale and trembling, two distinct red patches stood out on his cheeks, his breathing rapid - his pupils dilated wide.  
   "What's wrong with him?" Micky asked, stepping through the doorway.  
   "Withdrawals are kicking in - go down and get Mike - have him bring the lockbox - _now_!"  
   He turned back to Davy, wiping the sweat from his brow and attempting to get him to make eye contact."  
   "Okay kiddo, I'm here - I've _got_ you Davy. Help is on the way, just hang in there. Deep breaths alright?"  
   "P-please Tony, I _**need**_ a p-pill!"  
   "Davy it's too early for that. I'm going to give you some adderall; it'll calm your nerves till nine o'clock rolls around."  
   "Here's the box," Mike said breathlessly, rushing onto the scene, "whatta you need?"  
   "Adderall - please, hurry!"  
   "Right. Peter go down and get Tiny a glass of water babe!"  
   "There's a glass in our bathroom," Micky suggested, "it's closer."  
   "I'm on it Michael."  
   "Amici I need you to bring me a cool wet rag, damp but not dripping."  
   "You got it."  
   "Here's the medicine," Mike said, shoving the bottle into Tony's waiting hands.  
   "Okay Davy here is the water kiddo. Swallow this for me."  
   Verging on an anxiety attack Davy shook so violently he could barely hold his drink. Steadying the glass, Tony helped him get some down his throat without wearing most of it.  
   "Washcloth," Micky said, kneeling beside his long-time friend, "how's he doing,"  
   "Not there yet, we just got an adderall in him."  
   "Is there anything else I can do?"  
   "Right now space, quiet and calm are the rule of thumb. One of you can stay, but everyone else should probably go on downstairs. Thanks for being so on top of this everyone."  
   "Come on Cotton, let's go."  
   "Thanks Mike, I _really_ wanna stay with him."  
   "Course you do shotgun. Holler if y'all need anything."  
   "Looking better kiddo, how are you feeling?"  
   "I c-c-cahn't _d-do_ this."  
   "Yes you can; its not going to be easy, but it _will_ get easier as time goes by. Deep cleansing breaths, just relax Davy."  
   "I-it h- _hurts_!"  
   "What hurts cookie?"  
   " **E-e-everything**!"  
   "The adderall should be working in a few minutes kiddo, just ride it out. Another thirty minutes and you can have your pills."  
   Managing to nod slightly Davy closed his eyes, the rocking slowing - his breathing visibly smoother. Less shaky, he was able finally to sip some water without assistance. A long deep breath, released with a sigh, informed Tony that the worst of it was over.  
   "You doing okay?"  
   "I think s-so."  
   "How about you take a shower, or a hot bath? It'll help you relax and pass the time until nine o'clock. If you're feeling unsteady, I'm sure Micky would be happy to assist."  
   "A showah maybe?"  
   "Come on little one; let's get you in the bathroom."  
   "I don't 'ave any clothes ready."  
   "I'll go home and get your meds and wait down in the kitchen, that way you can get out and dress in here."  
   "But 'ow will ya know when I'm finished?"  
   "Micky can come get me."  
   "Okay.”

   In the kitchen, Peter was making tea - his go-to solution for every crisis situation. Lemon zinger - Davy's favorite - in a decaf blend with a hint of lavender.  
   "How is he?" He asked as Tony bustled through.  
   "Not a hundred percent but much better. Micky is helping him get a shower, then it should be about time to have his dose."  
   "That won't be too much for him? With what he just swallered I mean."  
   "Mike believe me, it's a drop in the _bucket_ compared to what he's been using. Worst-case scenario, he’ll sleep really well tonight. I'll be right back; I have to get his meds."  
   "Tony, I made a pot of Davy's favorite tea, is he able to come down and have a cup with us?"  
   "I'll think about it Peter, if nothing else I'll allow you to take him some."  
   "Okay, thanks man."  
  
   Upon his return, Tony found everyone gathered around the kitchen table in a huddle, seemingly in some sort of fuss. Nearing the kitchen he caught sight of Davy in the middle of the hubbub - sitting at the table - his shirt covered in blood.  
   "Good grief - what _happened_?"  
   "He didn't even make it into the shower and his nose started gushing like old faithful! I brought him down here to get some help cuz it just wouldn't stop."  
   "Michael made an ice pack with a sandwich bag and had him tilt his head back, it's finally slowing down."  
   "Let's have a look kiddo."  
   Micky removed the towel-wrapped ice pack from the bridge of Davy's nose so Tony could get a better view. With his penlight, he examined the delicate nasal passages looking for the cause.  
   "Aha, that explains it."  
   "Wha'?"  
   "Snorting pills for these past few weeks has developed some chemical burns inside your nose. The thin membrane finally gave way producing the rain of blood you experienced."  
   "I've seen that before," Peter said, "guy I met back in the village had a hole in one side of his nose from sniffing different drugs. He ignored the burning and nose bleeds until it was too late."  
   " _Yer joking_!"  
   "Dead serious man."  
   "Great," Davy said in a stuffy-headed tone, " _Dow_ wha'ab I gudda do?”  
   "Well since you're only going to be taking the pills for a couple more days, I guess you'll be swallowing them like everybody else."  
   "Bloody _lubly_."  
   "Since you're already down here, you may as well sit and have tea with us. Peter was kind enough to make your lemon tea, so I'll concede to breaking your punishment for just a little while."  
   "Thanks, (sniffle) and that's bery thoughtful of you Petah, I appreciate it."  
   "You're welcome Davy; I'll get us all a cup now."  
   "I left a message with Paul's answering service; I explained what happened and have asked for an adjusted dosing schedule for the adderall. Hopefully if we can get a regular alternating routine going, the withdrawals won't be quite as horrendous."  
   "It's 'elped a lot, but dot completely." (sniffle)  
   "Here ya go Davy, lots of lemon and honey, and I added a little lavender oil to soothe your nerves."  
   "Oh tha' sounds _wonderful_ , thank you. Wish I could _sbell_ it."  
   "Looks like your nose is ready to cooperate, the-"  
   Tony was interrupted by his cell phone ringing shrilly in his pocket.  
   "Excuse me," he said, stepping into the other room to take the call.  
   "I gotta tell ya, you look a far sight better than ya did a while ago Tiny."  
   "Wish I felt it, (sniffle) m'not as wired as I was but I still feel like everything is all jumpy inside."  
   "If you're feeling jittery, maybe you shouldn't be drinking the tea then little one."  
   "Come on, don't take **_tha_** ' from me too!"  
   "It's okay Micky," Peter intervened, "It's decaffeinated herbal tea, if anything it should calm him down."  
   "Oh thank God, it's the most _wonderful_ thing I've 'ad in my mouth lately."  
   "Hey!" Micky teased  
   " _Nutritionally_ speaking, don't get yer knickers in a knot."  
   "Okay," Tony said, returning to the kitchen, "That was Paul."  
   "Please tell me 'es giving me a higher dose?"  
   "Not hardly, however he wants you to take the adderall every eight hours until we get you on a sub. You'll get the next one at five o'clock, then every eight hours after that."  
   "When can I 'ave my percs?"  
   "Right now, but from here on out they go down your throat."  
   " ** _Percs_**? What, are you like this big-time junkie who uses all the _lingo_ now?"  
   " _Really_ Micky? I'd expect a crack li'e tha' from **Mike** maybe, but _damn_!"  
   "I resemble that remark," Mike grinned, attempting to lighten the mood.  
   "I'm sorry Davy, I _really_ am. I'm just not handling this whole thing very well I guess. I see you _so different_ from this; it's just hard to take in."  
   "I really need those pills man, 'fore I say anything _stupid_."  
   "I realize how the dependency affects your mood Davy, but you're going to have to put some effort into controlling those urges. Personal strength, willpower and self control are going to play a huge role in working through the recovery process."  
   "I'm trying, I am - but it's not easy to just plaster on a perma-press smile and be all 'appy! I didn't mean to get hooked on this crap n it's 'ard enough facing everyone _without_ the wise cracks."  
   "Incidentally, when are you planning on telling your brother?"  
   " ... I - I _wasn't_."  
   "Would you want Nicky to keep something of this magnitude from you kiddo?"  
   "Tony I'm _already_ a **huge** disappointment to 'im, why would I wanna make it worse?"  
   "Davy, Nicky worships the ground you walk on - if anything he'd be worried about you, _not_ disappointed."  
   "Peter's right, Nicky would be more upset if you kept him out of the loop on this than by the news of it. Ya gotta tell him babe."  
   "Can I **_PLEASE_** just take the bloody pills - I'll deal with this decision _laytah_ , right now I'm ready to lose me mahrbles!"  
   "Here kiddo, take them now, one at a time."  
   "Finally!"  
   "And since you're feeling well enough to be argumentative, you can take your tea and go back upstairs when you've taken them all."  
   "Why, what'd I do wrong?"  
   "Nothing Davy, but you are under restriction right now. I didn't fuss about you being downstairs because you had a minor situation with your nosebleed, but it's all over now and you're taking your meds. Time to get back to your room. I've got to get a little sleep; I have to be back at two to give you the next dose."  
   "Why?" Mike asked, "I'm here, and I'll probably be awake till then _anyway_. Isn't that why you bought the lockbox?"  
   "It is, but Davy is my responsibility, I don't want to shove it off on anyone else."  
   "Well you're not, I volunteered. With the schedule for both pills man, if somebody else doesn't help you'll _never_ get any sleep! Besides, it'll give me a chance to use those spiffy sign-out sheets you went to all the trouble of making."  
   "Alright," Tony sighed, "we'll put these in the lockbox, but we communicate about this. I'm not going to have you missing _your_ beauty sleep either Tex."  
   "Lord knows we both need it."  
   "I feel like an infant, everyone is taking a turn at my _two am feeding_."  
   " _I_ get to change his nappy," Micky grinned lecherously.  
   "You're still here?" Tony asked with a grin, "get your tail upstairs before I loosen your diaper and _powder_ your behind."  
   "I'm going, _crikey_!"  
   "I'll be right behind you babe.'  
   "Alright, couldja bring me a coke or something, I'm so _thirsty_."  
   "Yep."  
   "Good night Davy."  
   "Night Petah, g'night everybody."  
   "Night kiddo."  
   "I'll see you at two Tiny."


	11. Chapter 11

   With Tony gone and everyone else in bed, Mike and Peter had the main part of the house to themselves. Although Peter could have easily turned in and slept like a baby, Mike had other plans: he was in the mood to dominate, and naturally, Peter was willing to play along.  
  Sprawled across the sofa, Mike was watching him play the guitar - something that he thoroughly enjoyed - but a smoldering desire was burning behind his dark eyes. His casual demeanor and fierce need to control even his own desires played in his favor, masking the ravenous urges bubbling just beneath the cool surface. Peter however knew; he always did. No matter how well Mike contained himself, he couldn’t hide from his lover the mechanisms working behind his sexy, steely eyes.  
   So there he sat, barefoot and wearing the white shorts Mike could never ignore, strumming his acoustic. An innocent gaze belying the bold display he made of his hard-on, one knee bent at just the right angle for Mike's viewing pleasure. As he finished his song he smiled up at his lover, his tongue grazing his lower lip sensually in a gesture of mock nervousness. The simple action nearly sent Mike into an open sweat.  
   "That was nice."  
   "Thank you Michael."  
   "Put down the guitar Peter and come over here to me."  
   The specifics of Mike's instructions were a detail Peter had long ago learned to understand, a small misstep - an error in protocol - could bring displeasure to those smoky eyes, and in turn take pleasure away from Peter's end of their exploits. On hands and knees he moved to his expected place, on the floor before the sofa where Mike was lounging. Silently he waited for more instructions, anticipation honing the appetite in his groin. Reaching out to stroke his cheek, his lover smiled, touching him in the most tender fashion.  
   "My Cotton," he whispered, "my sweet, golden-haired one."  
   Grabbing a handful of sandy hair, Mike drew him up, pressing a savage kiss to his mouth. A rabid nip to Peter's lower lip gained him entry, their tongues grappling for territorial rights.  
   " _Love_ that mouth," Mike drawled, releasing his grip, "put it to work why don't you."  
   "Yes Michael, whatever you want."  
   Opening the striped robe Peter exposed the taut stomach of the lanky Texan, lavishing breathy kisses across the smooth skin. A quick tug on his boxers was enough encouragement to find him hoisting his slim hips into the air, Peter easily sliding them below his knees to drop onto the floor.  
Wasting no time in doing his lover's bidding, he quickly swallowed the pulsing shaft, a grunt of approval coming from overhead. Ever the master of his own desires Mike pressed his hand to the back of Peter's head, urging him into a heady pace. Relentlessly he thrust upward into the eager mouth, burying his cock in the moist channel that was his lover's clenching throat.  
   "You love sucking my dick like a little whore, donchoo you dirty slut. _SUCK ME_!"  
   "Mmmm," Peter moaned, sending thrilling vibrations up Mike's shaft. Turned on by the smutty abusive words, Peter took control. His back arching he bore down on Mike's cock, slurping and licking like a madman, his skilled tongue teasing the head with every frenzied stroke. The pleasure mounting Mike lay moaning, his head thrashing from side to side. Clutching the sofa cushion a low growl began gurgling up from deep within him. The muscles of his abdomen lurching he cried out, his love nectar spilling down his partner's throat, his body a shuddering, rigid, electrified mass.  
   "Shit **_YES_** \- _FUCK BABE_!"  
   Slowing his pace, Peter suckled him - drawing out the ecstasy a moment longer - swallowing his essence along with his seed. He laid his head on a quivering thigh, gazing adoringly at the liquid remains of his domineering lover who was now merely a panting puddle on the couch.  
   "Damn Peter, I think you sucked out all my strength."  
   "I love you Michael, I hope that pleased you."  
   "Hung me out to _dry_ shotgun! Now if I can only move, I'll take care of you."  
   "You really don't have to; I can wait until next time."  
   "You dadblame know _better_ than to think I'd let you do something for me n not even try to get you back. Come up here and sit with me."  
   Easing into the crook of Mikes arm Peter lay half in his lap, staring into the warmth of his lover's ever-changing eyes, an impish glint in their amber glow.  
   "Tell me what you want Cotton, anything at all, and I'll do it."  
   "Just _touch_ me Michael; you know I love it when you put your hands on me - so strong and rough, yet tender."  
   Positioning him spoon-style against him, Mike ran calloused fingertips across the smooth skin of Peter’s upper body, eliciting an anticipatory groan from his blond lover.  
   "Let's get you outta these," he whispered silkily in his ear, pulling gently on the drawstring of Peter's shorts.  
   Happy to assist the bassist shinnied out of the fabric barrier separating him from Michael's skilled and eager hands. Settling back against him, the heat of so much bare flesh connecting sent excited chills through him, his erection twitching in response.  
   "Mmm, somebody is ready for me."  
   "I need you _so badly_ it hurts."  
   "Well," Mike said between erotic kisses to his neck, "let's just do sumthin bout that."  
   Tracing the back of his fingers down the length of his torso Mike followed the line of hair running down his abdomen into the wiry thatch of dark-blond fuzz surrounding his enormous cock. With his thumb, he teased and probed the sensitive tip, spreading the bead of moisture leaking from it in excited anticipation. His eyes closed Peter moaned, the warm tingly sensation driving him wild.  
   Fumbling around in the semi-dark Mike located the tube of gel he had brought out with him, squeezing a small dab into the palm of his hand. Gripping Peter's huge pulsing shaft he began stroking him, slowly at first - twisting his wrist to swirl his palm around the mushroom-shaped head.  
   "Oh _Michael_ , yes," Peter enthused, relishing the torturous teasing of his hungry flesh.  
   Quickening his pace he palmed him in a furious rhythm, kissing and nipping at the smooth skin of his shoulder and pinching a hardened nipple with his free hand. His passion building Peter thrashed about, his climax fighting to claim him.  
Arching his back, his body in a spasm of sheer bliss, Peter smashed his lips against Mike's, crying out his release in his lover's open mouth in a passionate kiss. Jerking hard on the spewing cock in his fist Mike drove Peter beyond his brink, milking him to tears, his body shuddering in a silent plea for mercy.  
   "Oh Michael," he begged, as he twitched with ecstasy, " _Please_ \- let me **_stop_**!"  
   With three more relentless mind-blowing strokes, Mike released him, the thrill of breaking him finally fulfilling his own need for control. Whimpering, Peter turned, burying his face in his lover's chest. Hitching sobs shaking him, he made a wet mess of the crinkly hair covering Mike’s upper body.  
   "Cotton, babe are you okay? Did I _hurt_ you?"  
   " _God_ no, that was incredible!"  
   "Then why in the world are you crying?"  
   "I can't help it; it felt _so good_ that I just started to cry. That's never happened to me before."  
   "Felt _TOO_ good did it?"  
   "Yes, but I'd sell my right arm to feel that again."  
   "You will Shotgun," Mike said, kissing the top of his head, "I guaran-damn- _tee_ it."  
                                                                                      *****  
  As the clock struck midnight Mike struggled to stay awake. Physically drained from their escapades Peter was sound asleep in their bed and the silent house was working on his sleep-heavy eyes.  
          (C'mon _Nesmith_ wake ya ass up)  
   Splashing cold water on his face he wandered over to the coffee pot, pouring his third cup in thirty minutes and spooning in a good deal of sugar for added measure. Settling in front of the TV, he flipped through the channels searching for something entertaining enough to hold him awake, landing on the classic movie channel: It was 'Westerns Week' and tonight's featured movie was an old favorite. By the first gunfight at high-noon, he was snoring like a monster.  
   Upstairs Micky too was asleep with Davy beside him, the latter man moaning softly in his troubled slumber. Shifting restlessly under the bedspread a thin glistening sheen of sweat was forming on his forehead, his chocolate bangs sticking in heavy damp strings. Beneath his eyelids, his eyes fluttered in a wild dance as his right leg began to work in a kicking motion in tight, slow flits to the side as if he were shaking off a charlie horse.  
   Flinching twice Davy sucked in a gasping breath, eyes snapping wide he sat bolt upright in bed. His chest heaving he stared around the room in a panic, as if his surroundings were unfamiliar. Bounding from beneath the covers he came to stand in the center of the room, clutching his stomach, a scowl of pain on his ashen face. In a mad streak he dashed into the bathroom, bent in half, still holding his middle. Dropping his pajama pants he plopped down onto the toilet in the nick of time, his bowels exploding into the commode in a violent liquid rush. Seconds later, he vomited into the trashcan, liquid now spewing violently from both ends. Sweating profusely, he was taken by a sudden chill, his entire frame quivering as if in great fear. Catching his breath he managed to find his voice, strained and guttural but enough to meet the task.  
   "Micky - please, _help_ me!"  
   Startled awake by the raspy shriek Micky jumped to his feet, racing to the lighted bathroom and Davy's desperate cry.  
   "Babe what's wrong, are you okay?"  
   As if in answer another bout of retching overtook him, his stomach empty he dry-heaved painfully over the acrid stench of the trash bin between his feet. Acting on instinct, Micky hurried to wet a washcloth, squeezing the excess into the basin beside his miserable lover. With gentle loving strokes, he wiped the sweat-stained cheeks of the flushed, weakened young man slumping against his thigh. Laying the cloth across the back of Davy's neck he wet a second one, wiping the bile and vomit from his quickly dehydrating lips.  
   "Water," Davy squeaked, " _please_."  
   Turning again to the double sink he filled a cup with cool water, placing it firmly in both of his little one's trembling hands. Taking a large sip Davy rinsed his mouth, spitting into the soiled trash bag below. The second tiny sip he swallowed, soothing his parched and aching throat.  
   "Anything else I can get you babe?"  
   " _Need Tony_ , please!"  
   "I'm afraid to leave you alone!"  
   "I'm alright, but not fer long, _please hurry_."  
   "Okay I'll try to call his cell phone, I'll be right in the bedroom - holler if you need _ANYTHING_!"  
   While alone Davy managed to clean himself up. Dressed again and seated on the toilet lid, he was trembling violently when Micky returned.  
   "He's on his way over - Dave are you _cold_?"  
   "I'm n-not. J-just cahn't stop sh-shaking."  
   "Can you get to the bed if I help hold you up? If not I can carry you."  
   "M'n-not s-sure."  
   Without hesitation, Micky scooped him up, one arm under his knees the other wrapped firmly around his waist. With Davy's head resting against his chest, he carried him into the bedroom laying him gently against the pillows. Dressed only in cotton pajama pants, Tony came charging into the room, his brow furrowed, concern in his eyes.  
   "Hey kiddo, you look like crud. What happened?"  
   "I w-woke up sweaty n c-confused, m-me stomach stahrted cramping and n-next thing I know I'm p-puking n crappin’ all at once."  
   "Are you hurting anywhere?" He asked, checking his forehead for fever.  
   "N-no sir."  
   "Any other symptoms?"  
   "No, n-nothing."  
   "Are you cold Davy?"  
   "No, just sh-shaky. W-wha's ' _appening_ to me Tony?"  
   "It's the withdrawals kiddo; your body is basically flipping out because it isn't getting what it wants. Can you stomach anything you think?"  
   "I d-dunno,"  
   "Mick, would you please run down to the kitchen and bring back some saltine crackers and a glass?"  
   "Sure, be right back."  
   "Is it t-time yet, fer my pills?"  
   "I'm sorry Davy; you’ve got more than an hour to go yet. Let's get you covered up, see if it doesn't help a little."  
   Tucking the sheet and blanket snugly around him Tony swaddled Davy like an infant, wrapping him up in a safe, warm cocoon. Propped up on a stack of fluffy pillows he looked like a mummy on display at a natural history museum. Micky came in with the crackers and a tall glass handing both to Tony. Retrieving a silver flask from his pocket, he filled the glass with a deep red wine, the heady aroma wafting through the air.  
   "Here Davy," he said, lifting the glass to his lips, "sip this kiddo, it should help calm your nerves."  
   Taking a deep drink of the Burgundy Davy swallowed the smooth ferment with closed eyes, relishing the flavor of the perfectly aged vintage.  
   "Good, that will help with your nausea some as well. Let's try a couple of saltines, not good to imbibe on an empty stomach."  
   His entire body still bound inside the makeshift bunting, Davy accepted the hand-feeding from Tony, a strange feeling he hadn't experienced since he was a small child. Eagerly taking in several of the salty squares, he felt immediate relief for the empty pit that was his aching belly.  
   As the crackers and wine disappeared, the anxiety and trembling did as well. Gradually Davy's eyes began to close, until blessedly he drifted back to sleep. Tiptoeing from the room Micky and Tony slipped quietly downstairs to the kitchen, making good use of the remains of Mike's pot of coffee. They sat sipping the strong, thick brew in silence, each lost in his own thoughts of what had taken place. Finally, Micky interrupted the retreat.  
   "Did you know it was gonna _be_ like this?"  
   "While I couldn't have listed specifics, I knew what it would be like, yes."  
   "Yet you still volunteered to help him do this at home. _Why_?"  
   "Simply put, I love him. Just as much and in the same way that I love my Nicholas, I care about Davy and his needs. He _begged_ me to keep him in an outpatient setting if at all possible, and unless it's absolutely necessary I intend to _do_ just that."  
   "Do you think it'll be easier for him when he gets the substitute?"  
   "Perhaps. It may be like it is now - it may get worse. Right now I'll be happy to get him through the weekend."  
   "What're you doing here Tony?" A sleepy-voiced Mike asked.  
   "Ring out the bells, _sleeping beauty waketh_!" Tony teased.  
   "Davy had a bad spell; withdrawals got him a little bit ago. I had to call Tone over here to help calm him down."  
   "Damn. He alright?"  
   "We got him back to sleep but it's likely to be a rough weekend. He's not handling the deprivation well at all."  
   "What made you think to give him the wine?"  
   "Easy, it's the Italian national cure-all - we use it to treat everything. I knew it would settle his stomach, and its calming effects are a given."  
   "It's almost two o'clock man, if you wanna go home and get some sleep I'll see to it that Tiny gets his pills."  
   "I appreciate that Mike, but believe me - I’m up for the duration.”  
   "Man you cain't have _had_ more n three hours of sleep, how you gonna make it through the day like'at?"  
   "Not a problem Mike, I've always done well on three to five hours a night. I have to be here at five and seven o'clock again anyway, so there's no sense in my going back to bed."  
   "Well, if you're sure. Reckon I'm gonna go on to bed myself then. Night y'all."  
   "Night man."  
   "Mike, before you go, I'll need the lockbox."  
   "Oh right, I'll go fetch it."  
   "You may as well get some more rest too amici, I can manage on my own."  
   "Are you kidding, I'm already half way there. Night Tony."  
   "Goodnight, holler if you need me."  
   "Here's the box," Mike said, shuffling sleepily into the kitchen, "you're sure you got this?"  
   "Piece of cake. Mind if I camp out here for a bit?"  
   "Be my guest, you know where most everything is."  
   "I'll manage, thanks. Goodnight Mike."  
                                                                                      *****  
   With forty-five minutes to go before Davy's meds were due, Tony busied himself in the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee his first order of business.  
   When the java was brewing he scoured the cupboards looking for ingredients to put together a nice breakfast. Lining up most of what he needed he made a list of things to gather from his own pantry. After a quick trip next door, he was prepared to make a fabulous meal: Ham steaks, eggs, buttermilk pancakes with fresh strawberries and garlicky fried potatoes.  
   Sitting at the table with his coffee Tony set about the task of dicing the potatoes, chopping in bits of fresh garlic and onion as he went. Relaxed as he always was when cooking, he was totally unprepared for the shrill scream coming from upstairs. Jarred by the startling sound he nearly sliced his fingertip into the potatoes.  
   Dropping the knife he ran for the staircase, smacking straight into Mike at the bottom of the steps, a wide-eyed Peter at his side.  
   "Go _on,_ " Mike shouted, "we're right behind you!"  
   Dashing up the stairs the three men burst into the bedroom to witness a heartbreaking scene:  
        Standing in the corner his eyes glazed and wide Davy was in an agitated panic, frantically swiping at his arms, legs and face.  
   " **HELP ME**!" He shouted, "I cahn't get 'em _orf_ of me!"  
   Several feet away Micky sat on the floor, a stunned expression on his face, blood trickling from his swollen lips.  
   "Mike," Tony directed in a commanding tone, "run next door and get my first-aid kit, it's in the kitchen cabinet above the refrigerator - _**quickly**_!"  
   Turning his attention to Micky, he made a quick assessment, along with a few direct questions.  
   "How bad are you hurt? "  
   "Not bad, I think it's just a busted lip."  
   "How did it happen?"  
   "He woke up screaming something about bugs crawling on him. He was smacking and swiping at himself and accidentally hit me in the mouth."  
   "Peter I need a cold wet washcloth for Micky, _now_ please."  
   On his feet, he turned to the frantic young man still flailing at invisible insects. Lost in his hallucination Davy was completely unaware of his presence, too busy battling the wretched nightmare of his mind's response to the lack of opiates. Breathless, Mike stumbled into the room; cheeks flushed red, his chest heaving with the exertion of running so quickly between the two houses.  
   "Here," he panted, "brought .. the lockbox .. too."  
   "Good thinking, thank you."  
   Working quickly Tony fished out a syringe and needle, filling it halfway from a small bottle. Tapping the plastic tube to squeeze out the air bubbles, he stepped up to Davy and without hesitating, pinned him neatly to the wall, plunging the needle into his left arm. With a dazed expression, he slipped to his knees, Tony guiding him gently to the floor. Collapsing against the bathroom door, he closed his eyes and fell into oblivion.  
   Once again turning to Micky, he checked the injury for size and depth: Luckily, it wouldn't need stitches. Applying an antiseptic, he cleaned the split skin, patting it dry with a sterile gauze pad. Two quick spritzes of liquid bandage and he pronounced him on the mend, warning him off from straws and other sucking activities for the time being.  
   With Peter's assistance, Mike and Micky gently laid Davy in bed, propped up on a stack of pillows and covered up to his chin. Stressed and weary, the four men retreated to the kitchen table to commiserate over coffee and tea.  
   "By God," Mike declared, "I've never seen _anything_ like that in my life!"  
   "Me neither," Micky admitted.  
   " _I_ have."  
   Turning to Peter in surprise, they gaped at him, waiting for him to go on.  
   "Guy I knew in the village had a huge cocaine habit, if he didn't get his fix he'd think there were huge bugs crawling all over his skin."  
   "It can come with any type of withdrawal," Tony chimed in, "but they're generally referred to as _coke bugs_."  
   "So he _really_ saw them? _Felt_ them even?"  
   "Unfortunately Micky to Davy they were _very_ real."  
   "What did you knock him out with?"  
   "Lorazepam, same as before. A small enough dose that he can still have his meds when he wakes up, but enough to solve the problem."  
   "What's with all the food?"  
   "I was hoping to surprise everyone with breakfast.. I'll still make it of course, though the excitement is gone from it."  
   "Tony," Mike spoke up, "do you honestly think it's a smart move trying to handle drying Tiny out here at home? I'm not sure we're all up to the challenge."  
   "I know this much Mike, I promised him a chance to do this on an outpatient basis and I intend to deliver. As long as he sticks to the program, _I_ at least am in this for the long haul."  
   "I am too; I just hope we haven't bit off too much to swaller."  
   "How long do you think he'll be passed out?"  
   "Could be anywhere from three to five hours, it really depends on the level of his anxiety. I don't expect to hear a peep out of him before five o'clock."  
   "In that case, I'm going back to bed. C'mon Peter, let's get some sleep."  
   "Good night again you guys."  
   "See you in the morning."  
   "You should go back to sleep as well Micky, no point in both of us staying awake. Besides, I'd feel a lot better knowing Davy wasn't alone right now."  
   "Okay, I'll see you later Tone."


	12. Chapter 12

   Shortly after seven heavenly scents drew everyone out of bed and into the kitchen - everyone that is but Davy who was still sound asleep.  
  "You guys help yourselves to breakfast, there's plenty to go around. I'm going to try and rouse Davy. I'm concerned that he's still out of it."  
   "You want me to come with you?"  
   "No amici, stay down here. If I need anyone you're all just a shout away."  
   Easing open the bedroom door Tony peeked inside. Much in the same position they'd laid him Davy lay sleeping, his face serene, his chest rising and falling with the rhythmic patterns of one breathing in a deep slumber.  
   Sitting on the edge of the bed Tony paused a moment to gaze at the sweet innocence of the youthful face before him. Looking so like a fabricated angel on an artist’s canvas, the plump rosy cheeks belied the chaos raging within the slender body they so perfectly graced.  
   Brushing a few stray bangs away from his eyes Tony sighed, wishing again that he could turn back time just enough to undo this nightmare. Gently, so he didn't startle him, he shook the leanly muscled shoulder of the dark-haired boy he so adored.  
   "Davy, hey kiddo."  
   Coming easily awake Davy fluttered his eyelids open, gazing up at him with a curious grin.  
   "Tony? Is it two o'clock _already_?"  
   "Actually kiddo it's almost seven-thirty, and there's fresh coffee and a fabulous breakfast downstairs with your name on it."  
   "Seven-thirty? How did _that_ 'appen? Wha' about my pills?"  
   "I have them right here, if you'll sit up a bit I'll get you some water from the bathroom."  
   "Oh, okay."  
   Situating himself in the bed Davy stretched in a feline posture, shaking off the remnants of the night's rest. When Tony came back from the bathroom, he was sitting on the side of the bed.  
   "Here you go Davy."  
   "Tony, did anything.. _stupid_.. 'appen lahst night?"  
   "Why do you ask?"  
   "I seem to recall the strangest thing, a dream maybe, but it feels _so real_. That and the fact that my arm is sore as hell."  
   "Take your meds and we'll talk about it over breakfast, okay?"  
   "So something _did_ 'appen."  
   "You had a bit of a moment, yes. It was resolved quickly and nobody went to the hospital, so don't over-think it."  
   "I wanna know what I did."  
   "I'll tell you everything Davy, there's no reason for me to hide the truth from you. However, you're way overdue for your pills and you need to get some food into you to take them. Okay?"  
   Nodding agreement Davy sighed, downing his pills and mustering all the patience he could scrape together. A quick trip to the little boy’s room and they headed down to join the others at the table.  
   "Heyy, look who's up! Mornin babe."  
   "G'mornin - what the _hell_?"  
   " ... What?"  
   "Please tell me I didn't 'ave anythin' to do with that mess on yer lip!"  
   "Coffee kiddo?"  
   "Bloody hell, I _did_."  
   "Sit down Davy and eat. I already said I'd explain everything, food first."  
   "It's not a big deal cookie; you were asleep when it happened."  
   "Micky please, he needs to eat first."  
   "I'm just saying, he's really upset."  
   "Fine, you've said - now on to another topic if you will."  
   "The pancakes are homemade aren't they?"  
   "Absolutely Peter, it's the only way I make them."  
   "They're delicious!"  
   "They look light as a cloud."  
   "Oh they _are_ Davy!" Peter enthused.  
   "I guess I _am_ hungry, n everything looks s' _wonderful_!"  
   "Fill up your plate Davy," Tony smiled,  
   "I'm getting a refill, what would you like to drink?"  
   "Coffee would be great, thanks."  
   "Wow!" Micky raved, "What'd you _do_ to the orange juice?"  
   "You like?"  
   "Like doesn't cover it!"  
   "I pureed a banana and four strawberries and blended them into it. The potassium is very good for Davy right now, and well, personally I love the flavor combination."  
   "Is there enough fer me?"  
   "There's enough for you and twenty or so of your friends kiddo," Tony laughed, "You know me, I still cook like I'm feeding a big Italian family."  
   "Won't ever hear a complaint from me 'bout that," Mike assured him.  
   "Aren't you gonna eat too man?"  
   "Oh yes, never fear Peter, I've simply gotten sidetracked. Here you go Davy, coffee and juice."  
   "Thank you, and Petah’s right - the pancakes are _perfect_!"  
   "Thank you, I'm happy everyone is enjoying breakfast!"  
   "Ham n taters are a Texas staple at the breakfast table, makes me feel right at home."  
   "Happy to hear that Mike."  
   "I'm digging the fresh berries," Peter grinned.  
   "I'm digging all of it!" Micky countered.  
   "You fellas talk too much," Davy pronounced, "I'm digging _in_."  
   "You know what I'm digging?" Tony smiled.  
   "What?"  
   "Huh?"  
   "Wha's that?"  
   "You guys get to do the dishes."  
   "I broke my hand," Davy grinned.  
   "Arthritis," Micky claimed, shaping his hand into a claw.  
   "I have to go see a man about a dog!" Mike insisted.  
   Turning to their blond roommate who was busy shoveling in the last of his pancakes they spoke in unison:  
   " **Peter**."  
   "Somehow this always happens to me."  
   "So," Davy said between bites, "I'm eating breakfast. Tell me about my night."  
   "I'll do that, if you promise me you'll clean your plate, I don't want you getting upset and losing your appetite."  
   "Is it that bad?"  
  "It was a typical response to a lack of opiates in your system Davy, but I'm relatively sure you're going to see it a lot differently. Try to take it with a grain of salt, okay?"  
   "I'll do me best."  
   Doing all he could to keep eating, Davy listened to Tony and the others as they detailed the events of the early morning hours. Staring into his plate his normally bright eyes took on a dark and troubled cast, their brown hue deepening into a black void filled with intense pain. He asked no questions, nodding only a few times to indicate he was still listening.    Somehow, he managed to mechanically lift his fork, repeatedly sticking nameless bits of food in his mouth to mash and swallow without really tasting it. When the telling was through, he ever so properly wiped the corners of his mouth, dabbing them primly with his napkin. Pushing aside the now-cold cup of coffee, he folded his hands in front of his lips, a single finger touching the tip of his nose.  
   "When is my next adderall due?" He asked timidly.  
   "Not for about three hours Davy, right around ten-thirty."  
   A brief nod.  
   "May I be excused? I think I'd like to lie down fer a bit."  
   "Sure Davy, someone will bring you your medicine when it's time."  
   Without another word Davy stood, clearing his breakfast dishes to the kitchen sink. His juice in hand he turned for the stairs and silently left the room.  
   "Give him some space," Tony said softly, "he just needs to absorb the reality of his situation. It's certainly humiliating to him, though over time he'll come to understand that all of us still see him as the same lovable old Davy."  
  
   As he'd requested Davy went to his room and slept until noon, when Tony came to get him for lunch. For most of the next two days he played hermit, choosing to keep to himself upstairs, spending the majority of his time on the balcony soaking up the sun. He ate very little, and only ate what he did at the threat of not receiving any of the percocet that was squirreled away under lock and key - Tony's only resource for keeping him fed. Sleeping a great deal he was slipping into a deep despair, a self-loathing depression had taken hold that even Micky couldn't seem to break through.  
   Monday morning could not have arrived soon enough for Tony, concerned that his young ward was rapidly slipping beyond his reach. Skipping the physical therapy session, he made arrangements to take Davy in to Dr. Scott’s office an hour ahead of schedule. Anxious about his patient’s rapid deterioration, Paul took them back right away.  
   "Hello David, you look rough. How are you?"  
   "Aside from giving out fat lips and being the local freak show I'm doing great."  
   "I heard you've had a really tough weekend. Congratulations, you survived it and managed to remain a private citizen, not an easy feat."  
   "It’s easy if you lock yerself in yer bedroom.. cahn't exactly let the beast roam free, might frighten beauty away."  
   "The withdrawals are hell, I know. We're going to change that today, but let's talk a bit first. On a scale of one to ten, what's your anxiety level like today?"  
   "Twenty-seven."  
   "My math classes were different back in the stone age; does that come before or _after_ five?"  
   In spite of his fear that it would hurt like hell and break his face, Davy cracked a tiny grin.  
   "Hey now," Paul teased, "we can't have any smiling, it makes misery a difficult task."  
   "Does everyone going through recovery feel like they're from another planet?"  
   "Ahh _humor_! Best defense against the whole big headache we call life! To answer your question, absolutely. Davy there will probably be times when you _wish_ you were, _think_ you are, and _feel_ like you're on one. What you have to remember is this - and I'm going to throw your own words at you; the ones you’re feeling humiliated in front of right now - the people you call family? They're witnessing everything because they're on top of you twenty-four-seven.. you couldn't pay to skin your knee they're so over-protective."  
   ".. And I shouldn't feel embarrassed because they love me anyway, _right_?"  
   "I do love a quick learner. How are the cravings?"  
   "Huh," he laughed sarcastically, "even _you_ look like a giant Percocet."  
   "Itching? Sweating? Nervous twitches?"  
   "Yes, ringing in my ears, cramps, trots n I'm puking up half of what I eat."  
   "Tell me something positive that happened since the last time we met."  
   "Yer **joking**."  
   "I'll give you one, you give me one back. You woke up this morning."  
   "Yer impossible. Okay, I 'ad _great sex_ Friday night."  
   "There you go, sounds like a positive to me. I'm going to make some adjustments to your meds, why don't we bring Tony in here, I'll write this up and explain it to you both."  
   "Sure."  
   "Frances," Paul spoke into the intercom, "would you send Mr. Martinelli in please?"  
   Tony stepped inside and took a seat beside Davy.  
   "We're just about finished, but I wanted to explain to you both the med changes I'm going to make."  
   "Alright."  
   "First off I'll be starting you on Suboxone Davy; it's a non habit-forming substitute for the opiate pain medications you're addicted to. It's time-released and as I'm giving you the maximum strength, you'll take one every twelve hours. I'm changing the adderall to a time release also, and I'd like you to take it every eight hours beginning four hours after your morning dose of sub."  
   "What if I don't feel anxious or nervous?"  
   "Take them anyway, skipping a dose may lead to an unnecessary panic attack, and we can taper it later on as things calm down. I want to give you a prescription for the nausea, but I'm concerned that you'll just puke it back up. How do you feel about suppositories?"  
   "Erm…”  
   " _Really_ Davy," Tony grinned, "with your alternative lifestyle you're going to object to a _tiny waxy bullet_ up your-"  
   " _That'll be **fine** doc_ ," Davy mumbled, glaring at Tony, red-faced.  
   "Alrighty," Paul chuckled, "we'll go with phenergan, it's the most effective with very little chance of side effects. Every eight hours as needed but try to fit it in halfway between the adderall, it can cause drowsiness."  
    "How long does it take for the sub to start working?"  
   "He'll notice the full effects in a couple of days, some people experience symptom relief within twenty-four hours. Absolutely no more pain medication, **period**. _Understand_?"  
   "Yessir, I got it."  
   "I'll see you Wednesday morning same time. You have my emergency number if you need it."

  Stopping at the pharmacy on the way home, they filled the new prescriptions, the brief ride being uncomfortably quiet. Staring pensively out the window Davy chewed nervously on his lower lip, his mind seemingly everywhere but in the car. Reaching in his front pocket as they made their way home, Tony handed him a dollar bill.  
   "Wha's this?"  
   "Penny for your thoughts."  
   "This is a single notta penny."  
   "Well it seems you're drifting in a barrage of them so I figured I'd get my money's worth."  
   "I dunno," Davy sighed, "they're going in s'many directions I've lost track.. 'ope, fear, resolve, shame and outright panic fer stahrtahs."  
   "Sounds about right. Try to remember that you're not in this alone Davy. You can talk to any of us, we all want to help."  
   "I'm scared Tony, scared that the sub isn't gonna do it fer me. The things I've been going through with the reduced dosage have been pure hell, I cahn't _imagine_ what I'm gonna feel with no pills at'all."  
   "Don't look for the worst case scenario kiddo it'll walk up and slap you in the face if you do. Give the sub a chance to get into your system and see how things go."  
   "I know yer right, but my body, brain and sense of logic aren't currently on speaking terms so it isn't holding a lotta ground. I'm more worried about what the fellas are thinking of me than the pain to be honest, nothing like 'aving a live-in side-show to keep things entertaining."  
   Jamming on the brake pedal Tony stopped the car in the middle of the road, much to the aggravation of the driver behind him.  
   "Listen up and do it _**well**_ ," Tony nearly shouted. "I'm **not** running a circus and there are no freaks, oddities or jaw-dropping attractions to behold among us. Granted this is new territory for most of us and some of what's happening has been a bit of a shock. However, none of us sees you as _anything_ but the same Davy we all know going through the paces of recovering from a drug addiction. No more talk about side shows and freaks!"  
   The passionate spiel was both touching and eye opening to Davy, as Tony seldom raised his voice it was clear that he was sincere with his vehement words. The veil of shame and self-pity that Davy had been hiding behind was ripped away, and in the light of day he saw clearly that Tony was speaking the truth.  
   "I .. _I'm sorry_. It's humiliating to know that I've done such bizarre things and everyone has seen it. I guess I'm more embarrassed than anything. I know deep down that you guys don't think I'm a freak."  
   "You're not, and nobody thinks of these things in that way. Concern, sadness - perhaps the discomfort of not knowing what to say to you about the situation - but no judgment and no laughter."  
   Eyes locked to one another's they spoke silently, a mutual understanding of the depth of each other’s feelings, the perspective of the other's point of view. A tenuous smile crept across the younger man's lips, contagiously spreading to Tony's face.  
   "Alright kiddo," Tony said, slipping the transmission into gear, "let's go home."

  Tony's first order of business was to pocket the remainder of Davy's narcotics and replace them with his new medications in the lockbox. The original prescription for adderall would be disposed of, seeing no potential need for keeping it around.  
   "Okay Davy, this first day will be a tad off since we're starting out a few hours late, but we'll have everything on track by eight o'clock tonight. To get you started, I'm giving you your sub and one of the nausea um.. _meds_. At two pm, you will take the first time-released adderall and I'll have a time sheet over here by then for all of your scheduled doses. I'm going to remind the three of you - whoever gives him his meds _**WILL**_ sign the sheet, with the date and time - or he's going home with me! _No exceptions - no excuses_."  
   "Erm, _Tony_?"  
   "What is it Davy?"  
   "Do they 'ave to.. _administer all_ of my meds?"  
   Throwing his head back with an uproarious laugh Tony was beside himself in a fit of humor.  
   "It can be given to you to administer to yourself if you can manage that, though I imagine Micky could be of service in that capacity."  
   "I'm not following this," Mike said, a confused look plastered to his face, "I thought he wudn't _supposed_ to handle his own pills?"  
   Planting his face in his hands, Davy hid himself from the ensuing conversation. With a broad grin Tony clapped a hand firmly on the back of his neck, enjoying the bit of fun he was about to have at Davy's expense.  
   "Well Mike, if it concerns you that much I'm sure we could _BREACH_ the topic in some way, I wouldn't want to fall _BEHIND_ in my responsibilities after all. I'd be a perfect _ASSHOLE_ if I did, right Davy?"  
   Now thoroughly perplexed and catching the undercurrent of humor in Tony's dialogue, Mike dove in with a curious grin, eager to be a party to whatever had Davy turning seven shades of scarlet.  
   "Alright, whatever it is you're tryin so hard to annoy ol' Tiny here with, spill it. I wanna have some fun too."  
   "How bout we just play show and tell," Tony said, prying Davy's hands away from his face. What do you say kiddo, first grade revisited?"  
   "You people are _evil_ , d'ya know that?"  
   "Do you want the honors or shall I?"  
   "Is this _**REALLY**_ necessary?"  
   Grinning like an idiot Micky was now hooked as well, dying to know what Davy was so eager to keep under wraps.  
   "What could possibly be that embarrassing about taking some medicine?"  
   "Did they give it to you in a lollipop or something?" Peter asked?"  
   "Or maybe those little pink chewable tablets they give to little kids," Micky teased.  
   "Oh I'm sure he would be ecstatic in either case," Tony laughed.  
   Narrowing his eyes Mike surveyed Davy with growing suspicions, rehashing in his mind all that had been said. With sudden clarity, his eyes grew large and he burst into a fit of hysterical laughter, head thrown back, hand cracking sharply against his thigh.  
   "Don't 'urt yerself there Mike," Davy said with a sarcastic grin, "karma is on a turntable and eventually it comes round to _all_ of us."  
   "I don't get it," Micky frowned.  
   "Me neither," Peter followed.  
   " _ **Eeee-he-he-he**_!" Mike cackled, attempting to gain enough control to speak, "oh my _lands_ ," he shrieked, tears of laughter pouring down his face. "They gave him **suppositories**!"  
   "What are those?" Peter asked.  
   "Its medicine packed in a little waxy bullet-shaped cylinder. It melts when it gets warm and absorbs into the skin!"  
   "Why is that so funny?"  
   "Be-because _**ha-ha-ha**_ , they stick em _**EEEHEHEHE**_ up your **ASS** to get em to melt!"  
   Having chosen precisely the wrong moment to reveal this tidbit of information to his uninformed lover, Mike inadvertently earned himself an impromptu shower. Nearly choking on the coffee he was about to swallow, the surprising revelation gave Peter cause to spray coffee across the table in Mike's direction, thoroughly soaking his face and shirt. Watching the tan beads drip from the Texans nose and chin, Davy was now the one caught in a rib-splitting fit of laughter that had him rolling around on the floor clutching his stomach.  
   "Umm.. _sorry_ Michael," Peter grinned, "I'll get you a towel."  
   "Oh that was _PER_ fect," Davy clucked from the carpet, "tha's wha' I call _instant_ karma!"  
   "Laugh it up shotgun," Mike teased with an easy smile, "remember who's in charge of seeing that you _TAKE_ your medicine around here!"  
   " _Erm_.. love you man."  
   "I'm sure you do Tiny, just keep suckin up there partner n _MAYBE_ I'll letcha off the hook."  
   "Micky - 'elp me!"  
   "I dunno Davy, could be kinda _hot_."  
   "Thanks a lot; I'll manage on my own."  
   "Oh me," Tony smiled, finally gaining some control, "I tell you I've never laughed so much as I have since we've all come together. At any rate, you need to take your meds Davy before it gets any later. Then I was thinking lunch in town, all of us. My treat."  
   "Sounds good to me, I'm stahrving."  
   "Take the pill kiddo."  
   Eager to get some lunch Davy obediently took the medication, washing it down with a few sips of water.  
   "All gone, can we go now?"  
   "Not just yet, there's one more _dose_ for you to take."  
   The boys attempt to control their snickering was pointless. Even had they managed to keep silent the three sets of twitching lips struggling not to break into identical grins were a dead giveaway. It would be some time before they let him live this one down.  
   "Alright fellas, let it out. Yer all gonna 'ave bloody _strokes_ fighting orf the giggles."  
   "Here you go kiddo," Tony grinned, handing him a foil-wrapped, bullet-shaped packet, "onward and _up_ ward - and do pardon the pun."  
   Rolling his eyes Davy snatched the detested projectile from his outstretched hand. On his feet before the jeering could begin, he plodded up the steps like a pouty child, stomping his feet and muttering under his breath.  
   "You need a hand with that?" Micky called, an impish gleam in his eyes.  
   "Doubt it, but don't go anywhere."  
   Disappearing into his room everyone collectively held their breath waiting for any hilarity to ensue. Moments later, they were not disappointed.  
   " _MICKY - COME UP 'ERE PLEASE_!"  
   Smiling lasciviously Micky rose, rubbing his hands together like the evil genius in a mediaeval tale preparing to do some wickedness to the village virgin.  
   " _ **Muahahahahahaha**_!" He uttered, taking the stairs two at a time eager to reach his destination.  
   "If you're not back in five minutes," Tony warned, "we're leaving without you two!"  
   "I'll be finished in _four_ ," he giggled in reply.  
   "I can see this becoming an issue with those two; though I can't say I'd fault Micky for turning it into a pleasure trip."  
   Grinning like a proud new father Mike beamed at Tony.  
   "Shotgun, I like you more and more every time you open your mouth. _Damn_ if I don't feel like a proud father right now."  
   "Nice to know I have a fan club. Someday we'll compare notes Tex, I'm fairly certain that we have a _lot_ in common."  
   Before Mike could reply Davy came tramping downstairs, a deep scowl etched into his handsome face. Not far behind him, Micky was trotting to catch up, an amused smile plastered to his kisser.  
   "Aww c'mon little one I said I was _sorry_ , don't be such a spoilsport."  
   Stopping quite suddenly and turning to face his degenerate boyfriend, they nearly collided.  
   "We're going to stop at the drug store on the way back 'ere, n I'm buying a box of suppositories - I don't _care_ what they're for - and we're gonna recreate that moment upstairs with _YOU_ on yer knees. Then maybe we can talk apologies and socio-critical pet names."  
   "I take it you got it where it belonged?" Tony couldn't resist.  
   "Oh, and then some," Davy ranted, "If I stick out my tongue you could pull it out through my mouth!"  
   Crossing his arms over his chest in mock indignance, Davy stifled a grin as the laughter rang out once again. Waiting for everyone to get it out of their systems he squirmed, the squishy mass dissolving in his backside becoming quite uncomfortable.  
   "Are ya's finished? I'd like to eat some lunch _before_ dinnah time."  
   "Okay, let's get it together guys. How about that seafood restaurant down on the boardwalk?"  
   "I'm there!" Micky enthused.  
   "Sounds good to me shotgun."  
   "You know I love seafood, no arguments 'ere."  
   "Michael, can we ride the carousel after we eat?"  
   "Whatever you want Cotton, come on babe."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Later that night Davy reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed Nicky's number. Dreading the conversation, he chewed nervously at his lower lip, hoping deep inside that his older brother was somehow unavailable; Nicky picked up on the third ring.  
   "Hello?"  
   "Nicky, hi."  
   "Hey little bro, so _good_ to hear your voice! Funny, I was just bragging about you this afternoon."  
   "Oh really?" Davy said, his heart sinking.  
   "Yaa this loudmouth in my class was going on about his kid brother and how he's waiting tables in a restaurant where he has to sing to the customers. Always shooting his mouth off about how great he is and all. I was so over hearing it for the hundredth time so I casually mentioned that you were a singer in a rock band. I made sure everyone understood just how talented you are and by the time lunch was over, he just skulked away with his hands shoved in his pockets. Shut him up _but_ _good_!"  
   "Possible that you spoke up too soon bubba."  
   "What do you mean?"  
   "Nicky there's something I 'ave to tell you, something that's probably gonna let you down or make you angry. Maybe even _both_."  
   "Whatever it is bubba it can't be that bad. Besides, I could never be disappointed in you."  
   "M'not so sure about that, I really messed up with this one."  
   "Talk to me Davy, maybe I can help."  
   "Nicky, I've got a problem …"  
   Through many tears and much humiliation, Davy laid out the whole sordid story to him. With patience and love, Nicky listened as bit by bit he poured his heart out, describing the nightmare of his addiction and recovery process.  
   "I'm so sorry Bubba, I _nevah meant_ fer this to 'appen, **_please_ ** say you still love me."  
   "Of course I love you Davy - nothing will **ever** change that! The important thing is that you're taking the right steps to do something about it. Do you want me to come home? I can be there in a couple of hours."  
   "No no! Tony and the guys are doing everything to 'elp me through this, you stay at school and keep at yer studies. I - Nicky I just needed to know that you're not gonna turn _away_ from me."  
   "Never Davy, you can't get rid of me no matter what you do. I love you bubba and making a mistake isn't going to change that."  
   They spoke briefly of other things, catching up on each other's lives and sharing a few laughs. Finally, with a lightened heart, Davy bid his brother good night.


	13. Chapter 13

   The next several days were difficult at best, the nightmare of withdrawal taking a fierce hold on Davy, body and spirit. Tremors, headaches, itching, cold sweats, nausea and vomiting kept him weak and miserable, to say nothing of his irritability. More than once Micky and Tony had to intervene, to prevent Mike from pounding his five foot one inch frame into the floor. Some precisely placed duct-tape over a certain British mouth would have solved the problem, but let's face it: there were laws against that sort of solution.  
   The hallucinations came and went and with them the anxiety that led to full-on panic attacks. Unwilling to add to the list of sedating medications, Paul insisted he ride out this most difficult leg of recovery without the aid of anti-psychotic drugs.  
        And ride he did, like a greenhorn on an unbroken steed.  
   Between the hectic medication schedule and Davy's late-night bouts of vomiting and anxiety, nobody was getting much sleep. Exhausted and cranky, squabbling and unrest had taken over the previously friendly natures of everyone involved.  
With very little appetite, Davy was not eating well at all - and the little that he managed to keep down wasn’t enough to sustain a hummingbird. Tired and not feeling sociable he took to his room, spending most of his time alone either pacing, sleeping or hovering over the toilet bowl.  
   Thursday afternoon Tony came to check in on Davy, bringing his two o'clock meds and hoping to lure him out if his room for a while. Knocking lightly, he gained permission to enter the private sanctuary.  
   "Hey there kiddo, brought up your meds and a coke. How are you today?"  
   "Hey Tony, thanks. M'alright."  
   "You look a little peaked, have you eaten anything yet?"  
   "Petah brought me some tea and toast this morning. I ate pahrt of it."  
   "How 'bout you get dressed and we all go down to the beach for a while, we'll pack a picnic and just hang out for the day, get some sun?"  
   "I dunno, I'd rather just stay 'ere."  
   "Come on Davy, everybody misses you. Just come for a bit and if you want to go back inside in say an hour, I'll leave you be."  
   "Huh," he snorted, "I find it 'ard to believe _Mike_ is missing me."  
   "Mike adores you; the two of you just knock heads a lot. You're a lot alike you two."  
   "That's not exactly an _ego_ boost."  
   "Be that as it may, I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll be downstairs making lunch; I expect to see you within ten minutes."  
   Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left the room. Ten minutes later - in swim trunks and bare feet, Davy stood in the kitchen eyeballing the profuse lunch crammed into the wooden picnic basket.  
   "Looks great, smashing job Tony as always."  
   "Thank you. Nice to see you back among the living."  
   "Where's everybody else?"  
   "Micky is in the bathroom, Mike and Peter are in their room - everyone is changing for the beach."  
   "Oh. What about you?"  
   "I'm already to go. Got my trunks on under my pants."  
   "So yer just gonna drop yer pants out on the _beach_?"  
   "I'm not going to be naked, so why not."  
   "Yer a lot looser than I thought, way to go!"  
   "Look who's out in the light of day," Mike beamed, walking into the room,  
   "Was starting to think you'd turned into a vampire. Missed you Tiny."  
   "Hey Mike, nice trunks."  
   "Ya like em? Bought em yesterday, Peter picked em out."  
   "What did I pick out? Oh hi Davy - _good_ \- you're coming with us!"  
   "Hey Pete. Mike was tellin me you picked out his new trunks, nice one."  
   "Oh yaa. Of all the ones he tried on I liked this pair the best. They show off his-"  
   " **HELLO MICKY**!" Mike interrupted, bringing a grin to Davy's face.  
   " **HELLO MIKE**. _**WHY ARE WE SHOUTING**_?"  
   "Hey Micky."  
   "Davy! You coming to the beach with us?"  
   "Yaa I guess I'm goin to give it a try. You look good."  
   "So do you, I'm so excited that you're coming along! I _miss_ you little one."  
   Planting a quick kiss on his cheek Micky smiled broadly, elated to have some contact with his lover, the would-be hermit.  
   "Everybody ready?"  
   "I just wanna grab my radio," Peter called.  
   "Hustle up Pete, you're always the slow-poke."  
   "Sorry Micky, I'll hurry."

  Once out on the sand under the brilliant California sun some of Davy's old self began to peek through. A refreshing swim having invigorated him, some group shenanigans immediately followed. Splashing around in the ocean playing a game of chicken against Mike and Peter he balanced on Micky's shoulders with a delighted grin, locked in a push-and-shove match with Peter, fighting to stay on top.  
   He and Micky ran around the beach in a game of tag, playfully grabbing at each other in an intimate back-and-forth exchange of touches, gropes and tackles. Laughing for the first time in days, they collapsed on the sand in a breathless sweaty heap, with Micky pinning him neatly beneath him. A few discreet, sandy kisses later, they decided to join the others for lunch.  
   Too focused on the fun (and a little worked up from so much close contact with Micky) Davy failed to notice the half-pound of grit sticking to his sweaty skin. Without thinking, he reached across the blanket to grab a sandwich, scattering sand all over Mike's fully loaded plate. With a sinking feeling in the pit if his stomach, Tony saw what was coming next.  
   "What the hell Davy!" Mike groused.  
   "Wha'?"  
   "You just shook wet sand all over my food! Do ya _hafta_ lean over ever'body like that?"  
   "Sorry mate, I guess I wasn't thinking."  
   "Well getcher mind off of Micky's ass for a minute and mebbe you could."  
   "I said I was sorry Mike, wha' _more_ d'ya want?"  
   "There's plenty of food left," Tony said, trying to redirect the conversation, "we'll just fix you up another plate Mike."  
   "Well, I reckon it _was_ an accident.. Alright.”  
   For a minute it appeared that all was well - ruffled feathers tucked away - everyone happy to move on. From the corner of his eye Tony saw the trembling in Davy's hand, half-heartedly clutching his sandwich.  
          (Please lord, _not now_!)  
   Trying to maintain an illusion of calm, Tony spoke casually, offering the two men choices for their lunch.  
   "Cole slaw kiddo? Mike?"  
   "No thanks."  
   "Shore."  
   "Pickle?"  
   "Absolutely."  
   "I'll pass."  
   "Baked beans? Potato chips?"  
   "Load me up!"  
   "No, thank you."  
   "Davy are you just going to eat a _sandwich_ kiddo?"  
   "I think I'm just gonna 'ave a coke Tony, I-"  
   "You spoiled _rotten_ little brat!" Mike jumped in, "You're gonna waste all this food and go off pouting cuz you got called out on your own _rude mistake_!"  
   "I should've stayed in my room; I _knew_ this would be a bad idea. I'm going 'ome."  
   "Davy wait."  
   "Fuck that Tony, I'm _done_ 'ere!"  
   "Davy …" Micky called.  
   But it was no use. Determined to escape the situation, he was already halfway to the house and not looking back.  
   "I'm going to go talk to him," Tony sighed, dusting the sand from his legs, "if I'm not back in a few minutes, I probably won't be."  
   "You shouldn't be coddlin him."  
   "Thanks Mike, but I've _got_ this."  
   "I'm gonna go with him," Micky announced, "I'll see you guys later."

  Quickly catching up with Tony Micky was at his side when he knocked on the bedroom door. When Davy didn't answer, he rapped harder, calling out his name.  
   "Davy it's Tony, can Micky and I come in?"  
        Still nothing.  
   Shrugging slightly, Micky turned the knob and stepped inside with Tony close behind. Aside from Davy's clothes laying across the foot of the bed, the room appeared as it had when Tony left him earlier that afternoon. Only now the young man occupying this space for much of the week was nowhere in sight. The open door ruled out his presence in the darkened bathroom, so logically they checked the balcony next. Stepping outside they found Davy curled up on the chaise, eyes closed, the remnants of a good cry drying on his cheeks. Seating themselves in the two deck chairs opposite him, Tony reached out and gingerly shook his knee.  
   "Please, leave me alone."  
   "I will kiddo, when I'm sure you're okay. I know Mike misunderstood what you were doing out there, please, tell me what you were going to say Davy."  
   "What difference does it make now?"  
   "I want to know. I want your feelings to be validated Davy; you have a _right_ to be heard. Please kiddo, talk to us."  
   " ... wha' _us_?"  
   "It’s me cookie," Micky said, "Nobody else is here."  
   Sniffling once, Davy wiped his eyes and sat up in the lounger. Not yet looking at either of them, he picked at his own fingers nervously as he spoke.  
   "I was gonna tell you that I didn't think I could eat anything' just now. I missed my afternoon dose fer the nausea n my stomach was _reeling_ down there."  
   "I saw that you were starting to shake a bit. I had a feeling _something_ was happening but I didn't know exactly what. I'm sorry Mike lashed out at you like that, I really wanted to set things straight out there but I wasn't going to force you to stay."  
   "You.. you _believe_ me?!"  
   "Of course I do. Davy I saw the effort you were putting in out there, I know that you were enjoying your day. You even held it together when Mike chastised you, I was _truly_ impressed."  
   "It was _my_ fault; I'd have been pissed too."  
   "We all know how Mike is," Micky smiled, "he doesn't mean to be such an ass; it's a _gift_ or something he was born with."  
   "He was really nice to me before we left fer the beach; I knew it was the sand bit that riled 'im. I just don't understand why 'e sees me as such a rotten obnoxious kid."  
   "Self reflection. He sees himself in you, his _younger_ self - and it irritates him. He is hard on you hoping you'll learn without having to make all the same mistakes he did kiddo. A bit backwards and psychological, but it's the truth."  
   "Well 'e musta been some wicked awful kid, cuz 'e thinks _I'm_ the devil incarnate."  
   "How is your stomach, are you still feeling sick? It's not too late to take your meds."  
   "Much as I despise the delivery method, I _need_ it. I'm so 'ungry but I'm _**terrified**_ of putting anythin' in me stomach."  
   "I'll send it up with Micky here and leave you two to it. I'm going to go have a little chat with our resident hothead."  
   "S' not worth gettin 'im all riled up again, 'es just gonna be pissed off at _me_."  
   "Trust me Davy; I know how to handle Mike. It's going to be fine. Micky, come get this suppository, we need to get him feeling better."  
   "Be right back Dave, and I _promise_ to be gentle with it this time."  
                                                                                      *****  
   After a quick shower and enduring another bullet up the tailpipe, Davy settled in for a short nap. When he awoke, he was surprised to find Mike sitting in the rocking chair next to his bed: Surprised and more than a _little_ nervous.  
   "Mike! W-what are _you_ doing up 'ere?"  
   "Waitin' on your sleepy ass to wake up. How ya feelin?"  
   "M'doin alright."  
   "Good to hear. Me not so much Tiny."  
   "Eat too much at lunch?" He asked smartly in a lilting, sarcastic tone.  
   "I suppose I deserve that. I meant that I'm not feeling so good about the way I done you today at the picnic. Davy I should’a give you a chance to finish talking, instead of assuming I knew what was going on. I was rude and hurtful: n well, Tiny I’m sorry. I wouldn't blame you if you told me to shove it, but I'm _hoping_ that you don't."  
   "I can say it anyway if it'll make you feel bettah," he grinned.  
   "Sometimes I let my lips start to moving way before my brain catches up. I really do hope you're feeling better, I'm bettin you're a _hungry_ lil cuss."  
   "You 'ave _**no**_ idea."  
   "Well Tony is downstairs whipping up some supper, n I'd be right pleased Davy if you'll come down and eat at the table with the rest of us."  
   "Let me know when it's almost ready."  
   "You can count on it."  
                                                                                      *****  
   A heavenly smell tickled Davy's nostrils as he descended the stairs, leading him on a taunting path to the covered kettle simmering on the stove. The table was set with bowls and saucers for whatever fantastic meal awaited them, an unusual combination that piqued his curiosity even more.  
   Tony placed the pot on a trivet in the center of the table, placing a quick slap on Micky's wrist as he attempted to remove the lid for a peek inside. Turning back to the stove he opened the oven and the room was suddenly filled with the scent of freshly-baked bread: Drooling, the four men gathered around the table practically moaned as he placed a tray of piping hot, flaky homemade croissants in front of them. A crock of butter joined the mouth-watering display and Tony pronounced dinner ready to eat.  
   "So what exactly _did_ you make? Besides these _AWESOME_ looking crescent rolls."  
   "First of all Micky these are not _crescent_ rolls - they didn't come from a pop-and-bake can snagged in the dairy section. They're _**croissants**_ \- made from scratch - and believe me when I say there is a **huge** difference."  
   "Oh. What's in the pot?"  
   "I was thinking of Davy's delicate digestive system and wanted to make something he could tolerate fairly well. Something delicious, healthy and full of flavor, and one thing came directly to mind."  
   " _Grandmamma's zuppa_!"  
   "Yes mi amici, I prepared the _zuppa_."  
   "What in the world is that?"  
   "Only the best homemade chicken noodle soup you'll ever put in your mouth Mike!"  
   " _Grazie_. Davy, you're the only one that didn't eat lunch, please kiddo, give your bowl to Micky."  
   "Okay," he said, handing over his bowl, "and _why_ am I doing this?"  
   "It's a tradition that goes back many generations in my family. The _zuppa_ is generally reserved for special occasions, grand celebrations, holidays and sickness. Regardless, when eating grandmama's zuppa you never, **_ever_** serve yourself. The family elder, sick person or guest of honor is always served first, and by the person seated to their right."  
   "It's an interesting tradition, but wha's it _for_?"  
   "Perfect question. It began in a time when there was very little food, and to be able to afford to prepare the zuppa meant a moment of prosperity. The act of serving the person seated beside you is to remind us that we've all seen hard times, and to remember those less fortunate before we celebrate our own good fortune."  
   "Wow," Peter smiled, "that's _beautiful_! Is that an Italian custom?"  
   "It is a family custom Peter; it began seven generations ago with my nonna Spirelli, my papa Martinelli's grandmamma."  
   "I _love_ it," Mike beamed, "traditions are what keep families together. Thank you for sharing this with us."  
   They went around the table in a counter-clockwise direction following the custom established so long ago by nonna Spirelli, with Davy finally ladling a generous portion of soup into Mike's bowl. In the same manner, the croissants were offered to each of them by the man to his right, until everyone had his food.  
   "Davy as the person of honor at this meal, it's tradition that you say a blessing for us. Would you _mind_?"  
   "Father in heaven for this lovely meal and those we share it with we are truly thankful. Bless it to our health and let us always remember the less fortunate. Amen."  
   "Very nice kiddo, thank you."  
   "I don't wanna sound like a big jerk but Davy would you **PLEASE** take a bite of the soup?"  
   "Wha's the hurry Micky?"  
   "By tradition, nobody else can eat until you do, and I'm _famished_!"  
   Spooning a steaming mouthful of the rich flavorful soup into his mouth, Davy's eyes lit up with sheer pleasure, the hearty deliciousness overwhelming his palate.  
   "This is the _**best**_ chicken soup I've evah had!"  
   "Thank you Davy, try it with a buttered croissant, you'll really enjoy it."  
   "Forgive me little one, but Tony, I _love_ you!"  
   "That good?"  
   " _ **Bellisimo**_!"  
   "Well unhitch the mule and hook me to the plow! Damn that's some _excellent_ soup!"  
   "Thank you Mike, glad you like it."  
   "Tony my compliments to nonna Spirelli; and these croissants are like big buttery pillows!”  
   "Thank you Peter. There’s plenty to go around, do eat up.”  
   Busy shoveling soup in by the ton, Micky could only nod and gesture his appreciation. Fortunately for Tony, all Italians could speak fluently with their hands: He understood clearly that with Micky the meal was a huge hit.

  Somehow managing to stomach the magic elixir that was Tony' soup Davy ventured outside to sit on the back patio with the others for a while, sipping tea and enjoying the evening breeze. The sounds of the closing day and the glorious western sunset, so large and seemingly close enough to reach out and touch, were soothing to the soul. Each of them lost in his own private reverie they sat without speaking, content to simply be in one another's company.  
   It happened so subtly that it was on him before anyone - even Davy - knew it was coming. Had everyone not been mentally adrift, the slight jingling clatter of his teacup jittering against the saucer in his lap would have been the first sign of the impending anxiety attack.  
   Feeling a bit warm he credited the hot soup for the clammy sweat that had sprung up on his skin, the increased pace of his breathing he attributed to the caffeinated tea. By the time the claustrophobia set in, it was already too late. Suddenly feeling penned-in Davy jumped to his feet, knocking his chair backwards, his cup and saucer shattering on the wooden deck beneath him.  
   Stumbling back into the corner he yanked hard at the collar of his shirt, its close proximity to his throat producing in him the feeling of being choked. Ripping it open easily he gasped for a decent breath, his shirt buttons flying in several directions across the sand.  
   " _ **Davy**_!" Micky called, jumping up to hurry to his side.  
   "Easy Micky," Tony said softly, reining him in by a belt loop, "what he needs the most right now is a little calm and a lot of space."  
   "I _know_ but-"  
   "I see it too amici, we'll get to it in a minute, it isn't serious. Davy, I know it's difficult but I want you to try and focus your breathing. Deep breaths through the nose, and try to keep track of your surroundings. Okay kiddo?"  
   His eyes glazed, the pupils blown out to their fullest, Davy acknowledged nothing that was happening around him. Stealing furtive darting glances about his field of vision, it became obvious to Tony that he was lost in another hallucination.  
   "Micky my first-aid kit, go quickly."  
   Off the deck in a flash Micky disappeared across the brief divide between the two houses, sprinting as fast as the darkness would allow. Mike and Peter stood motionless, frozen in stark fear as the watched the scene that unfolded before them. Arms outstretched protectively Davy was doing fierce battle with whatever invisible demon was plaguing his tortured mind. Kicking out and flailing his arms the tiny Englishman fought to fend off his imagined attacker, a choked gurgling emanating from his throat in his effort to cry out where no sound would come. His back against the low wooden railing Davy nearly toppled over backwards in his struggle, a painful and dangerous drop to the sand yards below a certainty.  
   Concerned for his safety, Tony took a step toward him knowing full well it could have a disastrous result - but his panicked young charge was utterly oblivious to his presence. Coming in low, he moved quickly encircling Davy just below his hips, swiftly throwing him over his back long enough to wrestle him gently to the ground. When Micky vaulted the last few steps to the deck Tony was straddling the younger man, attempting to grasp the wild arms that still sought to inflict injury to his self-invented assailant.  
   "I've got the kit - _what the f_ -"  
   "I need **help**!" Tony asserted loudly, "Someone needs to hold him down while I prepare the injection!"  
   Proving to be too much of a wild stallion for Micky to manage alone Mike came to the rescue, each of them pinning an arm to his sides freeing Tony to do what must be done. Less than a minute later, it was over, the four men gathered around the unconscious figure of their young friend with a deep sadness in their hearts.  
   Tony knelt beside him and tended to the cut on his shin, where a shard of teacup had impaled the golden skin a short time ago. It was to everyone's surprise that Mike, with tears in his eyes, gingerly hoisted Davy into his arms and carried him upstairs. When he'd come back down, Tony was in a panic of his own.  
   " … So now I have to figure out how to get his sub into him before the withdrawals get any worse tonight."  
   "He's gotta have his other pill at ten," Mike chimed in, "and I think it's time we seriously consider how out of our league we are with this."  
   "I was hoping to give it another week or so, it's not like he's going out anywhere alone, the only ones dealing with him is us."  
   "Man you know as well as _I_ do how close Tiny came to goin' ass over end off the _deck_ just now! You can't honestly tell me you believe he's _safe_ doin' this at home!"  
   "Actually I do Mike. If he's too much for your comfort level you're more than welcome to send him home with me."  
   "That's not what I'm saying here."  
   "Well the offer stands, anytime."  
   "Man we're not trained or equipped for this kind of thing, that's _all_ I'm saying."  
   "Then you've said it. Either you're in this or you're not, there is _no_ middle ground Mike."  
   "I never said I was out, just voicing my opinion."  
   "Appreciated. Now how about something constructive; like how to get his meds into him now that he's out for the count?"  
   "Trying to sit him up long enough would probably wake him up or be a waste of time, wouldn't it?"  
   "I'd say yes, one or the other. Regardless Micky, it isn’t a reasonable option."  
   "When I was a kid my mother would crush any pills I had to take and mix them into applesauce."  
   "A good idea Peter, but again we're faced with the fact that he's asleep. He can't swallow in his sleep and after that god- _awful_ thing he went through out there I _don't_ want to wake him just yet."  
   "How long you reckon would be enough time to let him sleep 'fore ya do wake him - if ya had to?"  
   "Absolute minimum, a couple of hours. Why?"  
   "So what are the odds of him being able to wake up just enough to swallow a little laced applesauce by then? He's already in a withdrawal state, taking his meds a few hours late is better n missin' it altogether ain't it?"  
   "I guess we'll find out, it's about the only option we have at this point. Nice teamwork guys, _this_ is what I need from you all, more than anything, is to help me manage things until he gets past this first hurdle."  
   Sighing, Mike nodded. In spite of how he felt, he would be there for Davy. For _all_ of them.  
   "Okay so I'm going to need some help with him when the time comes, one person should be enough. Any volunteers?"  
   "I'll do it," Micky said, "I'm gonna have to get him into his pajamas anyway."  
   "Its seven-thirty now, say about ten o'clock?"  
   "Ten it is."  
   "I'll probably be awake still by then, if y'all wind up needing an extra pair of hands, lemme know."  
   "Thank you Mike, I'll keep that in mind."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Friday's visit to Paul's office was stilted and uncomfortable at best. An exhausted Tony appeared as dwindled as the hungover-looking young man seated next to him. From across the desk Paul gazed at the pair with a growing concern, as he listened to Tony describe the previous night's events to he and Davy at the same time. Scratching a few quick notes into his file, he turned an even gaze upon his patient.  
   "Davy I'd like to speak to Tony alone for a minute, and then we'll have our session, alright?"  
   Looking rather nervous he nodded, wordlessly exiting to the outer lobby.  
   "Well don't you just look like a major construction zone."  
   "I beg your pardon?"  
   "You look like four miles of bad road. This is taking a _toll_ on you."  
   "Of course it is but he's my responsibility, and worth _every bit_ I might add."  
   "Sure. He seems like a great guy, but how long can you keep up this pace?"  
   "I know I look like hell, but honestly I normally sleep every night. Last night was truly an exception. I get where you're going, believe me when I tell you that I will come forward if inpatient treatment becomes necessary Dr. Scott."  
   "I've offended you."  
   "Not in the least."  
   "Then why the formality? I've been _Paul_ to you for some time now."  
   "Pardon me that: my heritage tends to make me a tad business-like when I'm trying to get a point across. Do forgive the misunderstanding."  
   "Nothing to forgive, you communicated your truth to me and the matter is closed. Do you see _any_ improvement at all at home?"  
   "Not speaking with a hopeful heart, but I do. He is making an effort to socialize and has even had some good times. His only drawback at this point is the withdrawals and their effect on his mind and body."  
   "No begging for the pills? No attempt to get some on his own?"  
   "Not at all. He seems committed; it’s just the weaning process that's been so difficult."  
   "Guarantee me that you'll let me know if this grows beyond your capability and I'll leave him at home."  
   "He is far too **_important_** to me to handle it any other way."  
   "Alright," he nodded, "send him in."  
   Stepping outside Tony motioned for Davy to trade locations. Filled with apprehension, he walked into Paul's office and reclaimed his seat.  
   "How are things going?"  
   "Aside from being a friggin _bahsket_ case now n then, pretty rough."  
   "That bad eh. Tell me about the symptoms you're dealing with."  
   Davy detailed the lovely week he had spent itching, sweating, puking and otherwise despising his own body. Honestly expecting to hear he was being carted off to the nearest rehab, he sat quietly staring into his lap.  
   "I'd definitely say that's a tough five days you've had."  
          ( _Here it comes_ )  
   "So do you have a plan to get yourself through the weekend, anything _specific_ to keep you occupied or perhaps an emergency plan?"  
   Raising his eyes to meet Paul's the look of stunned relief on his face could not have been more genuine.  
   "You.. you're not _sending me off_?"  
   "No Davy, not at this point. I _do_ however think you need to make an effort to recognize the signs and triggers that lead up to the incidents that you've been dealing with."  
   "M'not sure I know what you mean."  
   "Alright for instance, before you have an anxiety attack would you say you typically experience any of the other symptoms you mentioned? Say you get nauseated and sweaty, or perhaps you'll get a headache and start itching twenty or thirty minutes before an episode."  
   "Oh I see. So maybe I'm just sitting around and I get the shakes or stahrt to get irritable. That could be a _clue_ that things are about to get stupid."  
   "Yes exactly. Once you're able to see it coming, there are things you can learn to do on your own or with someone you trust to possibly avert a potentially ugly situation."  
   "Like _wha_ '?"  
   "It’s going to be easier to send a booklet home with you that has a vast collection of techniques for relaxation and calming - yours to keep.”  
   "Thanks Paul, that'd be _great_."  
   "I want you to understand too that it was by Tony's insistence that you're not going to a treatment facility today. Neither of you is looking much like a picture of good health kiddo, I'm hoping that things improve over the next seven days."  
   Grasping the implications of what would likely happen otherwise, Davy too hoped that things would quickly turn around.  
   "Tell me something positive that happened to you since our last visit."  
   "We 'ad a picnic yesterday on the beach, for the most part I 'ad a _really_ good time. I got outside fer a bit and played in the water. It was nice to leave me bedroom fer a while."  
   "Social contact is very important for anyone Davy, but at a time like this in particular you need to try _not_ to isolate yourself too much. Here is the booklet I promised you, continue with your meds and call if you have an emergency. I'll see you Monday morning."  
   "Have a good weekend Paul."  
   "Take your own advice Davy and _do the same_."  
  
   Once back at the beach house Davy claimed fatigue and opted for a late morning nap. When he'd taken his leave, closing the bedroom door behind him, Tony filled the others in on the decisions made at his counseling appointment. Unfortunately, not everyone was pleased with the outcome.  
   "Ya mean that head shrink offered to put him into a clinic to finish this out - and you talked him _out of it_?!"  
   "That's not _quite_ how the conversation went Mike, seeing my sleep-deprived condition Paul assumed that things were getting rough around here. I explained that it was a rare thing for me to get no sleep at all and the matter was settled."  
   "Settled for **who**?" He bit back, his voice rising in aggravation, "I was hoping one of you could talk sense into the other, but apparently you managed to snowball the _doctor_ too!"  
   "It was a _mutual_ decision based on fact, there was no swaying anyone's opinion on either side. Why are you so _hell-bent_ on sending Davy away Mike?"  
   "He needs _professional_ help. I for one would like to get through just one night without the _five a.m. mania_ taking over dragging everybody out of bed before the roosters!"  
   "As I've said, if it's a burden to you, he's welcome to stay with me for the duration. It's a shame that as his friend this is the _best_ that you can do."  
   "As his _friend_? I happen to **_care_** about that kid, but it is not worth destroying everyone else in the process of saving Davy. Poor Peter is such a nervous wreck he's been having nightmares and _nobody_ is sleepin for more'n a few hours at a time."  
   "Michael please, it's not a big deal."  
   "I don't hear anybody else complaining, just you Mike."  
   "Nobody else has the balls to speak their mind to you - you're so goddamn busy trying to _prove yourself right_ they're afraid to step up and tell you the truth!"  
   "Guys," Peter spoke again, "please _don't_ fight."  
   "Fine. Anyone else has something to add, some complaints to file; let’s get them out on the table _now_. Micky? Peter? Please, _**be honest**_."  
   "I'll admit that I feel like I'm in _way_ over my head, and no I don't get enough sleep anymore. That being said I **_love_** my little one, and I don't want him sent off somewhere just because I wanna sleep late in the morning."  
   "What about you Peter?"  
   I love Davy like a kid brother, there's nothing I wouldn't do to help him, _ever_. But some of the things that he does scares me, and when I'm scared I'm not of much use to anybody. I know it isn't his fault - and I'm not blaming him, I just feel helpless and nervous all the time."  
   As the bickering continued in the kitchen, nobody had noticed the sad, quiet figure in the corner of the second floor landing. Hot angry tears streaming down his cheeks, Davy slipped silently back into his room before anyone detected his presence.  
   "I'm done with this conversation," Tony said angrily, "Cut and dried Davy is _my ward_ and unless **I** deem it necessary he will remain at home for the duration of his recovery. Should that be an _inconvenience_ to anyone here, I have no qualms whatsoever about moving him in with me until this is finished. Micky would you be so kind as to take his suppository up to him before he falls asleep, it'd help him out a great deal if he were getting his medications **_on time_**."  
   Nodding, he took the foil packet and headed up the steps, having nothing further to say that would be of any help.  
   "Has it crossed your mind that by being so considerate of his _feelings_ , you might be doing Tiny more harm than good?”  
   "It's not about his feelings, I simply don't believe that sending him away to strangers is going to do anything more to help him through this. It certainly won't make it any easier for him to feel forgiven, accepted _or_ loved."  
   "He _**is**_ -"  
   " **Tony**!" Micky interrupted from the top of the stairs, panic in his voice, a stricken look in his eyes.  
   "Micky what is it?"  
   " _Davy's gone_."


	14. Chapter 14

   "What do you _mean_ he's gone?"  
   "He's not upstairs, not anywhere!"  
   "Have you checked the balcony?"  
   "Balcony, bathroom - he's _not_ here."  
   "Maybe he went next door to your place."  
   "I'll go out the front way and look at my house, one of you check the back patio and scan the beach."  
   "Why not just call his cell phone?"  
   "Be a great idea Mike if it wasn't right there on the table," Micky pointed out.  
   "He's not on the back deck," Peter said, poking his head in the bay doors, "I'm gonna go look around on the beach."  
   Fifteen minutes passed before everyone met back in the boys’ kitchen, no one having seen neither hide nor hair of their AWAL youngest. Running out of answers, they held a quick powwow to pool their brains.  
   "Where on _earth_ would he take off to?"  
   "The better question Micky is _why_ would he leave, he was in a decent mood and said he was taking a nap!"  
   "You don't suppose he overheard the fuss about him do you?" Peter asked.  
   "I certainly hope not," Tony winced.  
   "If he did it would explain his vanishing act, I mean if it were me I wouldn't wanna stick around either."  
   " _ **Damn**_. He could be _anywhere_ by now, there's no telling how long ago he left."  
   "Not much we can do but wait, but believe you me, if Tiny was my responsibility he'd damn well be getting that _ass busted_ when he got back!"  
   "Ever the caring diplomatic voice of reason eh Mike."  
   "Micky he knows he isn't supposed to leave the house alone. No way of knowing _what_ kinda mischief he'll be about."  
   "So _pleased_ to hear the concern in your tone."  
   " ** _Dadgummit_** man! Of c _ourse_ I'm concerned about him Tony! But none of us'd _hafta_ be if he hadn't a took off like'at!"  
   "So what do we do now?"  
   "Unfortunately Micky Mike is correct about one thing, there's little else we can do but wait for him to show back up."  
   "Couldn't we look around town? I hate to think of him being out there upset and maybe going into one of his spells."  
   "Believe me amici it crossed my mind, but he could be anywhere. He may be holed up at a friends or at the theater - he could be in one of his many hiding places he disappears to when he needs space.”  
   "I wouldn't waste the gas in my car on him," Mike grouched, "but you can bet I'd be waitin with my belt off when he got back."  
   "For pity's sake Mike he's not _twelve_!"  
   "Micky if he behaves like a kid you _ **treat**_ him like one."  
   "While surprisingly I agree with your concept Mike I'm not sure I can see myself _spanking_ a nineteen year old man."  
   "By God _I'll_ do it!"  
   "You'd like that too much," Peter grinned.  
   "I'd enjoy it but not for the reasons you're thinking of shotgun."  
   "This really isn't helping you guys."  
   "Micky just find something to occupy your time. Until Davy decides to wander back home, nothing else can be done."  
   " _Shit_."  
                                                                                      *****  
    Angry and very hurt Davy had slipped down the back stairway to the beach, walking off at a steady clip across the sand. His fiery pace matching his emotions, he soon left the beach house and its occupants far behind. Fighting back the tears that threatened to blur his already red vision, he swallowed the hurt, choosing instead to embrace the waves of rage he felt at being so easily dispatched by those he felt the closest to.  
   Nobody needed to remind him that he'd messed up - of this he was painfully aware, but to know he had become a burden, a disruption to the lives of his friends ( _some friends_ ) was more than he could bear. Trudging along the streets in a tangle of his own thoughts he lost focus of his surroundings, no longer caring he simply propelled himself forward wallowing in his own misery.  
   Vaguely aware of a buzz of noisy activity he discovered that he was all the way down by the pier, the hum of the crowd on the boardwalk ahead having broken through his private little bubble.  
           ( _Don’t_ )  
   The clenching in his stomach went unnoticed as he continued moving in the direction of the din, passing the tiny boutiques and small shops that lined the avenue preceding the constant festival atmosphere that was the boardwalk.  
           ( _ **Turn back**_ )  
   Tourists and locals mingled in the densely populated strip of neon-lit rides, restaurants and carnival-like gaming booths that lined either side. A jumble of sensory input pressed in on Davy, flooding his brain with a plethora of stimulus too intense for him to fathom out. Bells and whistles, loud chatter and the screaming of excited children weaved their way into the mixed aromas from the various food carts, overwhelming his senses and increasing the tension in his already knotty shoulders.  
   A hurried passersby jarred into him, sending him into a momentary spin. The dizzying view and his sudden awareness of the sheer number of bodies surrounding him were at once more than Davy could bear. His hands, tugging at his now-constricting collar began trembling uncontrollably, his stomach lurching with a spasm that twisted into a painful knot. His normally pink cheeks were pale and glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, his heart tapping out a frenzied rhythm in his heaving chest.  
   With a mind of their own his fingers clutched wildly at his own hair, the soft, brown eyes Micky so loved growing wide with panic and fear. Teetering on the edge of losing it altogether a low rumble gurgled in Davy's throat, rapidly building into a terrified shriek. In the final seconds before his mind succumbed to the anxiety, separating from reality entirely, he was seized roughly about the shoulders by strong hands.  
   " _Davy_?" He barely registered the speaking of his own name, "Davy, man _what’s wrong_?”  
   Snatched back from the brink he stared wild-eyed into a familiar face, the hands on his shoulders shaking him back to reality.  
   "Man, are you _tripping_ or something?"  
   " _P-please, help me_!"  
   "What do you need me to do?"  
   "J-just g-get me out of here."  
   "I gotcha man, come on."  
   Leaning on his rescuer for support, Davy managed to half-walk half-stumble away from the crowded scene. His breath still coming in hitches and gasps he all but collapsed in the passenger seat of Ben Worthington's car. Sliding behind the wheel Ben keyed the ignition, turning to Davy with a curious eye.  
   "Bad trip?"  
   "N-no, _p-panic_ attack."  
   "You want me to drive you home?"  
   "F-fuck no, a- _anywhere_ but there."  
   "Okay, just mellow out dude, I _know_ what you need. We're going to my place."  
                                                                                      *****  
   At six-thirty Tony sat down to dinner with Micky and the guys, though in all honesty he didn't have much of an appetite. An unusual quiet had fallen over the supper table, the conversation amounting to 'please pass the salt'. As they still had not heard from their young runaway, a somber mood had set up housekeeping among them with an inclination to stick around. Just as Micky decided he was no longer hungry, the front door opened and disheveled-looking Davy came casually strolling in.  
   "Oh great, I was 'oping to eat with everyone! Something smells _fantastic_!"  
   "Where in the _world_ have you been!" Tony demanded.  
   "I went fer a walk. Ooh Micky you made yer spaghetti!"  
   "A walk. You're not allowed to go out alone Davy and you _know_ that. Do you mean to tell me you've been walking around all this time?"  
   "Not the _entire_ time, no. Who made the salad?"  
   "I did, you like it?"  
   "It's smashing, I'd never have thought of putting pears and red onion together but it's incredible. Is that radicchio?"  
   "Yep, with baby spinach and feta cheese."  
   "Excellent job Mike, _really_."  
   "I don't appreciate you taking this so lightly, you had everyone worried sick. Now tell me where you were."  
   "I told you, I went fer a walk - I ended up down at the pier."  
   "Who were you with?"  
   "Umn _gah_ Mnky, thithis _inquellibo_!" Davy enthused through a mouthful of spaghetti.  
   "Thanks little one, I made it extra chunky with _lots_ of tomatoes and garlic."  
   "I asked you a question Davy and I _**expect**_ an answer."  
   "Not that anyone should need to know but I wound up at Ben Worthington's place."  
   "You did **WHAT**?" Micky asked.  
   "I distinctly remember telling you to stay away from him."  
   "I know that."  
   "Why on earth would you be stupid enough to hang around with that slimy, sleazy jerk after _everything_ he's done to you Tiny?"  
   "Stupid? **_Really_** Mike? Maybe because when the **ONE PM MANIA** took ovah Ben was _there_ to save me arse!"  
   Taken by surprise to have his own comments thrown in his face, Mike was at a loss for words. Realizing that Davy indeed had heard their list of complaints, the others merely hung their heads.  
   "Wha' - all of a sudden _nobody_ has anything more to say?“ How come not one of you has bothered to ahsk me **WHY** I left in the first place? Is it perhaps because you _**already know**_?"  
   "I realize kiddo that you overheard the discussion that we had earlier today. I'm sorry if it upset you, but that does _not_ however alter the rules that apply to you to remain in outpatient treatment."  
   "Well forgive me if at the moment I just don't _give a fuck_."  
   "I'll be right back - you keep your ass planted in that chair."  
   "Sure, wanna finish my dinnah anyway."  
   Leaving through the back patio door Tony was gone in an angry flash. When he returned, he carried a small box in his left hand.  
   "On your feet Davy."  
   "Wha' for?"  
   "I'm exercising my option to do a drug test on you right this minute, into the bathroom, let's go."  
   "You seriously think I went out and _got high_!" He said angrily, jumping to his feet.  
   "I don't know but I intend to find out. Bathroom, _now_."  
   " _ **Fuck**_ the bathroom! I'll do it right 'ere! Give me the cup."  
   Taking a step back, Davy unbuckled his belt, popping the button on his jeans and lowering the zipper. Without reservations, he pulled out his member, filling the test cup to the brim.  
Capping the cup Tony swirled it, coating the built-in test strips, while Davy saw to tucking things away. A few minutes later, the test results were in.  
   " _Well_?" Micky asked timidly.  
   "Davy I owe you an apology. I took a full-spectrum drug screen on you with this test kit: You're clean as a whistle."  
   " **No** **_kidding_**!"  
   "For _real_?" Mike blurted.  
   "Absolutely. Whatever he did today, using drugs was not a part of it."  
   "Oh thank God," Micky breathed, "I'm _so_ glad to hear that. Way to go cookie!"  
   " _Nice_ one Davy."  
   "Thank you Petah."  
   "I'm pleased Davy, but you're not off the hook. Regardless of what happened here today you had no _business_ taking off like that. You broke a major rule and there _will_ be consequences. When you've finished your dinner, go up to your room. I'll be up to deal with you shortly."  
   " _Screw_ this shit, I'm goin upstairs now. I don't wanna deal with this _crap_ anymore."  
   "Suit yourself, but I offered the chance to finish eating Davy."  
   "Whatevah."  
   With a wave of his hand and a flourish of attitude, he huffed up the steps, slamming the door as he went into his room.  
   "I'm tellin you," Mike said with a smirk, "a trip over my knee would do him a whole world of good."  
   "I'm guessing this means he doesn't get any of the dessert I made," Micky said sadly.  
   "While I don't feel he deserves any kind of treat at this point I don't believe in depriving anyone of food - _even dessert_ \- as a punishment amici. Once he and I have had our little chat, you may take some up to him."  
   "That's very kind of you Tony," Peter smiled, "What did you make for dessert Micky?"  
   "Since I went with Italian tonight I made a mocha tiramisu. I picked up some killer espresso to go with it."  
   "I do believe I'm going to indulge in a bit of both before I go upstairs to deal with our little miscreant. It might put me in a safer mood for handling him."  
   "Okay," Micky grinned, "anybody else?"  
   "I'm ready for dessert Mick."  
   "Me too!"  
                                                                                      *****  
   With a cooler head, Tony finally climbed the stairs to speak to Davy and a terse knock at the door netted him a disgruntled grant of entry. Lying shirtless on his bed with his knees bent Davy stared at the ceiling, indignance still etched into his pouty face. Borrowing the chair from in front of the desk Tony sat beside the bed preparing for the confrontation ahead. Folding his arms across his chest, Davy did as well.  
   "I understand," Tony began, "that you were upset by some of what was said downstairs this afternoon Davy, and rightfully so. Again, I'm sorry. Try to remember that this is a stressful situation for everyone involved, and that people indeed tend to hurt those that they _love_ most often."  
   "Hurt doesn't begin to _covah_ wha' I'm feeling!"  
   "I can only imagine kiddo. Open communication is key in keeping everyone's emotions heard and respected, unfortunately we've been lacking in that department lately. All of this aside, it doesn't excuse the stunts you pulled today."  
   "If I didn't leave fer a while there would've been a _**huge**_ blow-out; I ‘ad to get some air - some time away from everyone.”  
   "Point taken, but you should have come to **m** e. I would have solved the problem without any issues or fighting and you wouldn't be in so deep right now. How did you manage to end up with _Worthington_?"  
   "I was so angry and upset I just walked as far n fahst as I could, not really paying attention to where. I ended up down at the pier and wandered over to the tourist district on the boardwalk. At first I was okay, but all at once it felt like the whole scene was pressing in on me. I stahrted to panic …”  
   "That had to be very frightening Davy, I'm sorry."  
   "I knew I was checkin' out, but was 'elpless to stop it. Out of nowhere Ben Worthington was there shaking me n calling my name. I dunno 'ow but 'e snapped me back to reality, hustled me into 'is car and took me to 'is place. For the record, 'e _offered_ to drive me home but I said no."  
   "So what did you do at Ben's house for basically five hours?"  
   "Talked mostly. I told 'im 'bout my problem, n what I'd heard this afternoon.. I just needed to vent."  
   "I see. How receptive was your former dealer to the idea of you being in recovery?"  
   "All 'e said was s'not fer everyone - using that is. You might as well know something else. Yer not gonna like it and I'll probably regret telling you, but I 'ad a couple of beers with 'im."  
   "Just curious here, but I would never have found out about that if you hadn't mentioned it, so why tell me?"  
   "Because Tony, I don't want to ' _ave_ secrets. I'm not _trying_ to be bad or cause trouble, but I 'ad a fucked-up day n drank a few cans with someone who was willing to listen to me bitch. M'not gonna _hide_ it from you even if it means I get punished. I'm serious about getting clean, but today I _needed a break_."  
   "Well there are going to be consequences for the rules you broke today. I will take everything into consideration when I decide what exactly they will be. For whatever it's worth, I'm not going to discipline you for the drinking - not just because of your honesty, but because I _truly_ understand. I expect it **isn't** going to happen again."  
   "No sir, thank you Tony."  
   "I've brought you your phenergan, and Micky will be bringing you your dessert after I take my leave of you. For the moment, you're not to leave this room until further notice. I'll have a decision by tomorrow morning as to your punishment. If I don't see you at ten for your meds, I'll be here at three."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Saturday was to be a family day with another picnic, planned ahead, and an entire itinerary of activities spanning into the evening. Swimming, volleyball, a lengthy jam session and a sunset bonfire as well as lunch and dinner on the beach were only part of the fun lined up, but Davy would not be included this time. Watching instead from his bedroom window, having been restricted to his room for the weekend, he sulked, feeling angry and unjustly left out. Bored and more than a little irritated with seeing everyone else have a grand time in the sun he plopped down on his bed once again, hands clasped behind his head, regarding the ceiling with a hateful glare.  
           (bloody friggin _shit_ I'm bored)  
   He'd already read everything in the house at least once, and the only TV available was down in the living room. Sick of playing solitaire, he had dropped his deck of cards in the nightstand a while ago, and it was still two hours until lunch. Yawning, he dragged the blanket up to his chin and curled up on his side for a leisurely nap.  
  
   Down on the beach Peter was playing with a tune he'd been constructing on his acoustic guitar. Stuck on a particular bridge he was frustrated, asking for input from Micky and Mike. After fiddling with a few chords that Mike suggested, the changeover fell effortlessly together, leaving a grinning Peter sitting tickled on the beach blanket.  
   "Wait right here," Peter excitedly cried, "I wanna go get my radio and record this onto my tape!"  
   Twenty minutes later he returned, empty-handed and looking forlorn.  
   "What's the matter big Pete?"  
   "I can't find my radio, I'm _sure_ I put it under the staircase like I always do, but it's not there."  
   "Well now don't get all upset shotgun, maybe you put it someplace else and just forgot."  
   "But Michael I looked everywhere and I can't find it. It's like it just vanished."  
   "We'll look for it when we get home Cotton, I'm sure it's there somewhere."  
   "Okay Michael."  
   "Anybody ready for some volleyball? I got us a spot playing against the Red Riders," Micky said, "Winners play the surfer guys for the championship."  
   "I'm in!" Tony said.  
   "Me too!"  
   "Come on fellas," Mike beamed, "let's go kick some red-ridin ass!"  
                                                                                      *****  
   Shortly after one, Davy woke to Micky gently kissing him. Warm from his nap and freshly awake his senses were heightened as a silky tongue brushed over his plump lips, traces of a salty-sour flavor lingering from the pickle he'd eaten moments before.  
   "Afternoon sunshine. I brought up your lunch."  
   "If it's all the same to you I'd rather have s' more of _that_ ," the younger man purred.  
   "I would _love_ to accommodate your request - believe me - but I was already warned that I can't stay. Tony reminded me _three times_ that you're on restriction."  
   "Of _course_ he did," Davy snarled, shoving off the blanket.  
   "Don't get mad, I plan on faking a stomach ache later so I can go to bed early. I'll see you one way or another little one," he winked.  
   "Wha's fer lunch?" He smiled, feeling a little better.  
   "I didn't know what you wanted so I brought you some of everything, and I snuck you up an extra coke."  
   "Tha's freakin _smashing_!" He grinned, looking over the loaded tray. "I suppose you 'ad to sneak the chocolate cake?"  
   "Actually no, Tony put that on here, said he knew it was a favorite of yours."  
   "Huh, 'e can be alright sometimes."  
   "I'd better get back out there, no point in aggravating the situation. I'll see you at dinner."  
   Planting another peck before he stood Micky reached up to lightly stroke his lover's cheek, a feathery touch that left electric tingles behind.  
   "Later babe."  
   "See ya."  
   Digging in with gusto Davy ate like a man who hadn't seen food in days, eating more from boredom than hunger. Partway through his potato salad, the familiar bling of a text message rang out from his cell. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled up the screen and read the cryptic message:  
  
                                      FENCED 4 U - EARNED U 5  
                                                  C U @ 3 DBL

   A mixture of emotions ran through him and he suddenly found he no longer had an appetite. Setting the tray on the desk, he walked to the door that led to the balcony. Staring out at the beach below, he scanned the expanse of sand in search of his oldest roommate. Spotting his sunny smile and golden-blond hair Davy followed Peter's activity momentarily, touching his fingertips to the pane of glass and swallowing a pesky lump that had taken up residence in his throat. Turning back to his room, he sat on the edge of his bed, punching away at the keypad of his phone. Satisfied with his response he pressed the send button:

                                    3 won't work 4 is better  
                                      HMU if it's a problem  
  
    Deleting both messages, Davy pocketed the cell and returned to the cocooned safety of his bed. Shutting out the world and the guilt with it, he closed his eyes and drifted into a restless sleep.  
                                                                                      *****  
   Relaxing after their meal Tony and the three musicians chatted casually, lounging about on two large blankets on the sand. In the near distance, an obnoxious intrusive blare of bizarre music blasted from an unknown source, gradually moving in their direction. Soon visible and drowning out their conversation, was a tattooed and pierced young thug with multi-colored spikes in his hair, carrying a radio on his shoulder.  
   "Hey," Peter pointed out, "whatta you know - he has a radio just like mine! Small world eh guys?"  
Giving the man a shrewd once-over, Mike was quickly on his feet.  
   "Real small world shotgun," he said snidely, "it's even got a yellow butterfly sticker on the side! Come on Mick, we're gonna go have a look at that'ere radio."  
   With Micky at his side, Mike approached the young metal-head, hoping it wouldn't turn into a confrontational situation. Fully alert and prepared to assist, Tony stood, waiting to step in if necessary.  
   " ** _EXCUSE ME_** ," Mike shouted over the cacophony blasting from the speakers.  
   "Yaa," the man replied, the volume turned down, "what do _YOU_ want?"  
   "Oh well I was just admiring your radio there young feller n I was wond'rin where you managed to come by such a fine piece of equipment."  
   "Bought it from a guy down at the pier this morning, she's a beaut ain't she?"  
   With his usual impeccable timing, Peter chose this exact moment to join in on the conversation, his thousand-watt smile and guileless naïveté preceding him.  
   "Gee mister that sure is a _swell_ radio you have, I have one exactly like it only I can't find it right now."  
   "So what're you tryin to suggest?"  
   "Oh don't mind my friend here," Mike said nervously, "he just has a thing for radios and a bad habit of misplacing things."  
   "You wouldn't be interested in selling that would you?" Tony asked, stepping into the foray.  
   "Maybe, if the price is right."  
   "How about thirty-five dollars?"  
   "Huh," metal-head sneered, "how about _fifty_ dollars - and I _**REALLY**_ like that watch."  
   Without hesitating, Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of cash, counting out fifty dollars. With a brief sigh, he unclasped his wristwatch and held it out to the thug with the money.  
   "Radio, please."  
   They made the exchange smoothly, the tattooed man smiling wickedly at his profitable manipulation.  
   "Pleasure doing business with you," he smiled crookedly.  
   "I'm sure. _Enjoy my watch_."  
   Taking Peter by the arm Mike led him away, the four men retreating to their blankets with the now rather expensive radio in hand.  
   "Gee thanks Tony, you _really_ didn't have to do this for me!"  
   "Think nothing of it Peter; I know how much that radio meant to you."  
   "But you traded your watch and everything! I'll try to get you a new one."  
   "That's okay Peter really - think of it as a _gift_.”  
   "Man that wudn't just any ol watch," Mike confided, "that was a _fuckin Rolex_! You could'a bought a brand new radio for way less than what you just gave away!"  
   "Hey!" Peter exclaimed, "This is _my tape_! How did it get in his radio?"  
   "Shotgun, you musta left your radio on the beach last time we were out here, n somebody done stole it and sold it to that idiot. It's pure luck you got it back."  
   "Boy do I feel stupid. But I'm happy too," he beamed, "I really worked hard on this tape!"  
   "Look at that face," Tony whispered to Mike, "he's so _tickled_ to have his tape back. To me, that’s worth a whole _**boxful**_ of Rolexes.”  
   "Shotgun, you're one of a kind. Thanks for puttin' that smile on his face."  
   "My pleasure Mike."  
   "I'll be right back; I'm gonna go put this in our room. I'm not losing it again."  
   "I can't _believe_ you," Micky smiled, "Only you would give away a five-hundred dollar watch to make someone _else_ happy."  
   " _ **FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS**_?!"  
   "It's just a thing Mike."  
   "I already had a lot of respect for you, but it just damn tripled man. _Fuck_!"  
   "It’s nothing, really."  
   "It’s everything to Peter."  
   "I gotta tell you guys," Micky said frankly, "I dunno what happened, but I remember seeing that radio in the house a couple of days ago. How it got outside and in dude's hands, I don't understand."  
   "I wasn't gonna say anything either, but I recall Cotton carting it up to the house last time he had it out here."  
   "So.. _how_ -"  
   "I don't wanna go there Mick. So _help_ me, I don't."  
   "Let's not jump to conclusions. He's only been out once, he'd have had to have gone past us to get it, and he tested clean."  
   "I don't wanna believe that he would, but if I find out he did, I'm tellin you both right now - his _ass_ is dealing with _**me**_!"  
   "I'm back. Anyone wanna take another swim?"  
   "I need to burn off some energy by God, I'm in babe. What about y'all?"


	15. Chapter 15

   It was Tony who came at suppertime with Davy's tray, making it an opportunity to check in on him as well. Noting the unfinished lunch tray, he made with the small talk in search of the reason why.  
   "Not trying to rub it in but you're missing all the excitement today."  
   "Oh _really_? Wha' happened?"  
   "Well we won the volleyball tournament, but only by a hair. Could've used your skills out there with that, but apparently even if you _weren't_ grounded you're not feeling well."  
   "Why do you think that?"  
   "Well for starters you barely _touched_ your lunch. Everything okay?"  
   "Oh, that. I suppose I was 'aving a private pity pahrty, lost me appetite. M'over it though.. sorry fer wasting the great lunch you made."  
   "Well, I'm glad to hear that you're not feeling ill. It’s dinnertime if you're ready to eat. It's not exactly a hot meal, I fried chicken last night and we're eating it as-is. Still pretty tasty according to Micky."  
   "Micky will eat anything that doesn't eat ' _im_ first, but I'm _**sure**_ it's great."  
   "Well, is there anything else I can get you before I go?"  
   " _Time machine_ would be nice, there's a few things I'd like to undo from the last couple of months."  
   "Would you settle for a cold drink?" Tony chuckled, "or would you prefer a cup of coffee?"  
   "Whichever is easier."  
   "Coke or sprite?"  
   "I suppose one of each is out of the question?"  
   "You're still _so spoiled_! I'll be back in a minute kiddo."  
   "Thank you," he called, grabbing a drumstick from his plate.  
   Back with the soft drinks, Davy approached Tony with his saddest of puppy-dog eyes.  
   "Tony, is there _anything_ we can do - some way to work it out so that I could go down fer the bonfire? I'll take any extra punishment you see fit, but I'm losing my _mind_ up 'ere!"  
   "Davy -"  
   "Please just think about it. I know it is my fault I am up 'ere alone, but I'll seriously pay _any penalty_ if you'll just lemme out fer a bit."  
   "I'll consider it Davy but don't count on it. The whole point of negative consequences is that it _isn't_ pleasant or fun."  
   "I'm going _stir_ crazy, I'm so desperate to get out of this room I'm ready to offah myself to **_Mike_** to take me ovah his knee!"  
   " ... It's not a _bad_ idea."  
   "It was an exaggeration, but wha'evah. Please, _please_ really think about this."  
   "You have meds at seven, that's just over an hour away. I'll have a decision by then, alright?"  
   "Okay, thanks."

   Rejoining the boys for dinner, Tony sat down with a grin and a shake of his head.  
   "That kid is something _else_."  
   "Whatta you mean?"  
   "He's pretty much begging me to come up with another punishment for him in exchange for permission to come out here with us for the bonfire. If it weren't such a sad situation I'd have laughed at the whole idea."  
   "Let him come on down," Mike nodded, "I'll be more'n _happy_ to take care of the alternative discipline!" He winked, imitating a spanking gesture with his right hand.  
   "Ironically enough, he all but volunteered to let you do _exactly_ that Mike. He's got a bad case of cabin fever and is desperate for a change of scenery, and some company."  
   "You could give him more work to do."  
   "I don't know amici; it didn't seem to faze him last time."  
   "What about taking away some kind of privilege or something he really enjoys?"  
   "That's essentially what the restriction he's on now is about Peter; with everything he's already lost because of his recovery situation, there isn't a lot left to restrict him from."  
   "I'm tellin ya, just gimme ten minutes upstairs with him and he'll come down to you a new man!"  
   "Why not just give him extra time in the room for whatever time he comes out here for," Micky said, glaring at Mike, "just like makeup time but where he's not feeling so left out."  
   "I considered that as well, but my concern is that Davy will buck when it comes time to serve the 'makeup' time with the same excuse."  
   "Tell him he can't before you agree to let him come down."  
   "I have a little time; I'll think about it and figure something out. Meanwhile, my dinner is calling my name."

   At seven o'clock sharp, Tony was back at Davy's door with his medication and a proposal for solving his cabin fever. Eager to get some fresh air the young Englishman was quick to admit him entrance.  
    "I brought your phenergan."  
    " ... Okay. Anything else?"  
   "Yes, I have options for you. I'll allow you to join us on the beach for the remainder of our evening, but there _will_ be conditions attached. Exactly what they are is pretty much up to you."  
   "How do you mean?"  
   "I discussed it with the guys and they had some very good ideas. I considered everything and I have a few choices for you as a 'makeup punishment' - it's up to you to pick one."  
   "Oh lovely. What are my options?"  
   "Option A: A rather thorough ass whipping from Mike - which he is _absolutely_ hoping for," he grinned, "Option B: Eight hours of serious hard work _AFTER_ your restrictions are lifted-"  
   " _ **EIGHT HOURS**_!-"  
   "And Option C: An extra twenty-four hours of confinement to your room. Your decision Davy."  
   "Wow, are ya _trying_ to change my mind 'bout comin down?"  
   "Not at all, we're all looking forward to your company. I am however making it _quite clear_ that consequences do not simply get lifted because you're feeling boxed-in. You earned this one kiddo; I am being generous in even considering this. So, it's your call."  
   "This bloody _sucks_. I suppose I'll take the extra twenty-four hours, which is gonna drive me crackahs - but I need to get out of 'ere fer a bit."  
   "Understand that puts you in here till Tuesday morning, with the exception of your appointments on Monday."  
   "Shit," he sighed, "can I reconsider this?"  
   "For a different option you mean?"  
   "Yaa. What kind of work would I hafta do?"  
   "I have a friend who is redoing a large garden, a good solid days worth of work easily. A lot of digging, moving large rocks and barrows of dirt. Probably some planting and such, some landscaping."  
   "That definitely sounds like _work_. Suppose I took _Mike's_ offah, who decides when s'enough?"  
   "I won't allow him to abuse you Davy or get carried away - I'll have the final say in the matter - but I suppose it'd be something the two of you would have to hash-out."  
   "Can I talk to Mike down there n give you my decision then?"  
   "I'll go along with that, but if I don't have an answer from you within thirty minutes, back up here you'll go."  
   "Fair enough, but you _will_."  
  
   " ... so lemme get this straight," Mike said, a sideways smile plastered to his face, "you're actually _asking_ me to take my belt to your bratty lil ass?"  
   "Erm, not _yet._ What I wanna know first is **_IF_** I were to agree to it, wha' exactly are we talkin about - a _few licks_?"  
   "Oh-ho-ho no baby, it'd be a _proper_ ass whoopin, none o this smack on the wrist 'bad baby' shit."  
   "Okay s'how many licks? I'm not gonna take a beating ya know."  
   "I'm thinkin.. _twenty-five_."  
   "No _way_! _**Fifteen**_."  
   "Huh-uh babe. **Twenty** : One for ev'ry year ya are old n one for good measure."  
   "M'not _bendin_ ovah yer knee."  
   "Okay, we'll figure sumthin else out for that."  
   "N m'not takin me britches orf!"  
   " **NO**! Of course not, this isn't some _kinky_ sex trip!"  
   "Okay. Well lemme talk to Tony right quick, I'll letcha know wha' he says."  
   "Come on you guys," Micky called, "we already have the fire lit, what's the holdup?"  
   "Coming now."  
   Joining the others around the roaring blaze Mike sat down beside Peter, Davy squeezing in between Tony and Micky, who was toasting a marshmallow on a stick.  
   "Well, did you two come to an agreement?"  
   "Unfortunately," Davy scowled, "but I suppose it could be _worse_."  
   "It isn't a done deal until I agree to the terms kiddo, so lay it on me or hightail it back to your room."  
   "Twenty licks, _not_ ovah his knee, me britches _on_ \- _IN PRIVATE_."  
   "That what you got out of it Mike?"  
   "Sounds 'bout right to me."  
   "Why so many?"  
   "We negotiated to that number, one for ev'ry year of his age and one for good measure."  
   "Guarantee me you aren't going to administer him a beating."  
   "I'm not out to _hurt_ Tiny, just teach him a lesson. It's a _spankin_ , for lack of a better word."  
   "Davy you agree to this?"  
   "Yessir, I suppose I do," he said, flushing crimson.  
   "Alright, tonight then before you go to bed the two of you can see to it."  
   "Wha' exactly are _you_ grinning at?" Davy barked at Micky.  
   "Sorry Cookie, I just had a _visual_."  
   " _ **A-heh-heh, heh**_ , _gimme_ that," he said, snatching the marshmallow from him.  
   "Hey!"  
   "Serves ya right."  
   "I can't help it, the idea of it just sends little thrills up my-"  
   " **MICKY**!" Tony interrupted.  
   " ... _spine_."  
   "Hmm."  
   Across from him, a sly smile crept onto Peter's face.  
   "Now what's got you all lookin like the cat that swallered the canary shotgun?"  
   "I think Micky lent me his visual."  
   "You guys are _terrible_ ," Davy grinned, "Toast me anothah marshmallow."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Around eleven the festivities finally broke up on the beach, much to Davy's objections that the night was still young.  
   "Stop avoiding the inevitable kiddo, it's time to pack it in. We're not going to disturb the whole neighborhood."  
   "Just _one_ more song? One more _marshmallow_?"  
   "Give it up Tiny, the fire's already out. Come on now, let's get this done with."  
   "Alright, I'm coming."  
   "Peter, Micky - you two bring the blankets and stuff up to the house, Davy n I have business to tend to."  
   Walking solemnly toward the house, Davy remained a few paces behind Mike, the butterflies in his stomach suddenly feeling like a colony of bats flapping about in his midsection. Walking through the bay doors, Mike turned to address him, an authoritative yet gentle quality to his demeanor.  
   "I'm gonna go change clothes n grab my belt Tiny. Go on upstairs n I'll be there in a few minutes."  
   Davy nodded silently, the faintest glint of fear in his big brown eyes, and headed for the stairs. Several minutes later Mike tapped on the bedroom door, waiting for a reply from the nervous young man. When none came, he stepped inside, and finding nobody, called for him.  
   "Where ya at Davy?"  
   "I'll be right out Mike," he answered from the bathroom, "M'changin into me pajamas."  
   Leaning against the desk the tall Texan waited patiently for his young roommate to make an appearance. Moments later the door opened and Davy stepped into the bedroom, bravely meeting Mike's eyes.  
   "So, 'ow do ya wanna.. _do_ this?"  
   Glancing at the thin cotton pajama shorts Davy wore Mike winced, knowing that each crack of his belt would drive through the flimsy fabric with a biting vengeance. Determined to forge ahead, he swallowed, finding his voice along with a little Texas grit.  
   "I reckon you could either lie down on the bed or stand up and brace your hands against the back of this here chair. Whatever you think'll work out the best for you."  
   "I .. I think I'd rathah _s-stand_."  
   Stepping aside Mike gestured towards the desk chair, his wide leather belt clutched readily in his right hand.  
   "Step back from it a foot or two so's you're leanin toward it just a bit."  
   Trembling slightly, Davy did as instructed, his bare feet planted shoulder-width apart, his hands gripping the top of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were bone white. Placing a hand on the younger man’s back, Mike spoke softly.  
   "Try n relax Davy, I'm not here to beat hell outta ya, n I'm _not_ here to get my kicks. Take a deep breath n let it out, n try to relax your body a little."  
   Nodding, he took a breath, blowing it out in a long exhalation. Closing his eyes, he barely whispered to Mike.  
   "I'm ready."  
   Out in the hallway of the second floor landing, Micky and Peter stood listening with bated breath, hoping against hope that Mike's will would dissolve and Davy would be spared. Their backs against the wall on either side of the door they waited, silently pleading with the universe to help their young friend.  
   Inside, Mike stood to one side of him, his left hand planted firmly on Davy's left shoulder. Bracing himself for the task ahead he drew back his right arm and swinging in a deep arc connected the first stinging crack with his backside.  
        ' _ **THWACK**_ '  
   Peter and Micky swung their heads to gape at each other with wide-eyed stares. Shocked and devastated for his little one, Micky slid to the floor, his face a mask of agony, fat tears streaming down his cheeks.  
        ' ** _THWACK_** '  
   Sitting beside him on the carpet, Peter held his friend, rocking him and attempting to soothe his aching soul.  
   "He's gonna be okay Mick, Michael won't be cruel to Davy. You _know_ that."  
        ' _ **THWACK**_ '  
   "I know, I just _hate_ knowing he's in pain."  
        ' _ **THWACK**_ '  
   In the bedroom, Davy stood stock still, neither flinching nor crying out as Mike's belt repeatedly marked its territory on his rapidly reddening behind. Silent tears ran down his face but he made not the slightest sound or plea for mercy.  
        ' _ **THWACK**_ '  
        ' _ **THWACK**_ '  
        ' _ **THWACK**_ '  
   On and on relentlessly went the onslaught, one man delivering - one silently withstanding - two huddling together in the hall bearing audible witness, until finally silence fell in the house. For several moments the door remained closed, as the boys waited for Mike’s triumphant appearance in the hallway. When nobody came, Micky could wait no longer. Timidly he opened the door to find the room completely empty. Knowing his Davy only too well, he tapped lightly on the closed lavatory door.  
   "Babe, it's me - can I come in?"  
   "S'not locked."  
   Slipping inside he found his lover standing red-eyed at the sink, running cool water over his cheeks. Meeting his eyes in the mirror his heart ached for what he knew he'd just endured.  
   " _You okay_?"  
   "As well as can be expected I suppose, but I _will_ be. I won't be a minute."  
   Taking a seat on the closed toilet lid Micky prepared to wait for him, wanting to hug away all the hurt when he turned around. Glancing at his backside - more out of curiosity than habit - he took in a sharp breath, appalled by what he saw.  
   " _OH MY GOD DAVY_!"  
   Whirling to face him Davy grasped both of his hands.  
   "It isn't what you think!"  
   "Your _legs_! What the-"  
   "It was an accident Micky; _please_ , don’t be angry with Mike. The lahst swing kinda got away from 'im n 'e accidentally got my thighs instead of me arse."  
   "How do you _know_ it was an accident?"  
   "Because, 'e dropped to 'is knees in tears pleading with me to know 'ow sorry 'e was. I **_saw_ ** it in 'is eyes Micky, 'e really didn't mean to. We talked fer minute, but I think Mike is feelin pretty low about it, 'es out on the balcony. Maybe you could talk to 'im?"  
   "I dunno ..."  
   "Man you should've seen it. I nevah thought Mike could be so.. _kind_. Yaa, 'e did wha' 'e was supposed to n all, but it was done right. No teasing or gloating - like 'e really cared. I've got a new respect fer him."  
   "Really?"  
   "Yaa. I'm pretty sure 'es out there kickin 'imself, please talk to 'im, let 'im know m'alright?"  
   "Okay, but I wanna put some salve on this first, it's _really_ bad."  
   "I won't argue with that, it _**stings**_!"  
   Carefully applying some ointment to the angry welts on Davy's thighs, Micky gently covered them with gauze, taping it in place. Settling him in bed on his stomach, he wandered out onto the balcony in search of his bandmate. Standing by the rail, hands in his pockets, Mike cast a weary glance out across the stretch of sand to the ocean below. His posture alone was enough to tell Micky that he indeed was feeling grievous toward himself: his shoulders limp, his head hanging forward forlornly.  
   "Hey," Micky said, stepping up beside him, "Why so down?"  
   "You seen Davy?"  
   "Yep. Just put some cream on his legs, got him all bandaged up and tucked into bed."  
   "Then why you _askin_ ’ me man?"  
   "Cuz Davy isn't holding it against you, he knows you didn't mean it to happen like that. So I was wondering why you were holding it against yourself."  
   "I hurt him bad Mick! Sure it was an accident, but didja _see_ them _**welts**_?!"  
   "Sure I did. But ya know what, he sent me out here to talk to you. He said he doesn't want you to feel bad cuz you did such a great job in there. Real paternal and caring, like you just want him to turn out right. He said he has a new respect for you. Mike I was in the hall listening while you were whippin him and it was _killing_ me to hear - but man, all of us know that you'd never hurt Davy, not _intentionally_!"  
   " ... He really _said_ that?"  
   "Yaa. He was _adamant_ that I come and talk to you. Shit happens Mike, just let it go."  
   "You ain't pissed at me?"  
   "I _was,_ until he told me what happened. I know it was an accident Mike."  
   "I'm gonna go down the back steps and come in the bay doors, I don't think I can handle seein Tiny right now. Tell him I said good night, will ya Micky?"  
   "You bet, night man."  
                                                                                      *****  
  In the bedroom Davy lay on his side propped up on one elbow when Micky came back in, a mischievous grin creeping around his lips.  
   "I was beginning to think you weren't coming back."  
   " ... why are you looking at me like that?"  
   "Like wha'?" He replied with mock innocence.  
   "Like a hungry dog drooling over a raw steak - and don't play innocent with me cookie, I i _nvented_ the concept."  
   "Come ovah here, I _want_ you."  
   "I don't see how we can - not with your _legs_ like that."  
   "So I'll take care of you n we'll take care of me next time. I've missed you like crazy _all day_ ya know."  
   "You drive a hard bargain little one."  
   "I'm about to. A few less clothes please mistah Dolenz."  
   "Now that's a request I can't refuse," he said, slipping out of his swimsuit, "I am at your disposal, have _mercy_ little one!"  
   "Not on yer _life_."

  Thirty minutes later Micky lay fast asleep, snoring like a monster, completely drained from the blowjob from hell. At one point he was certain that Davy had sucked his balls up through his cock (not that he was _complaining_ ) and would surely swallow them with his load.  
   Beside him, Davy was furiously tapping out a text message, hoping he wasn't too late to make a change in plans. Moments later, he received a reply. Deleting both messages, he threw on his shoes and slipped out the balcony door. Treading lightly he made his way down the back stairs to the beach below, carefully looking about for any sign of Tony or the others. Convinced that the coast was clear he ventured out into the open, darting across the expanse between the two houses. Creeping alongside Tony's place Davy dropped to his knees when he reached the elevated back patio, stealthily crawling past it in the sand. Reaching the other side of the house, he scrambled to his feet, racing off across the beach at breakneck speed.


	16. Chapter 16

   At two forty-five Tony slipped into his jeans and loafers to make the trip next door for Davy's three o'clock meds. Fitting his key in the bay doors, he stepped inside to find Davy standing in the kitchen.  
  "You okay kiddo?"  
Jumping at the unexpected intrusion, Davy whirled around, clutching his chest and trying to catch his breath.  
   "Tony! You _startled_ me ..."  
   "Sorry, I didn't expect to find you down here. Are you alright?"  
   "Yaa, erm I was just thirsty. I know I'm restricted to my room, but I couldn't see waking Micky so late just fer a glass of milk. Are you _angry_?"  
   "No, I can appreciate you not wanting to wake him. I brought your adderall; you might as well take it with the milk."  
   "Oh, right."  
   Grabbing a glass from the cabinet Davy filled it halfway with milk, taking his medication obediently. Draining the glass, he rinsed it, leaving it in the kitchen sink.  
   "Well I'm going back to bed, g'night Tony."  
   "Good night kiddo, I'll see you later."  
   As Davy went up the stairs, Tony was struck by the odd feeling that he was _missing_ something - something _critical_ that had slipped past his usually sharp eyes. Dismissing it for the moment, he went out the door locking it behind him and headed for home.  
                                                                                      *****  
    The next morning Mike and Tony sat together in boys kitchen sipping a leisurely cup of coffee. Rising earlier than usual, Micky had gone for a morning swim with Peter, and Davy was still asleep upstairs.  
   "I trust it went alright last night, as I haven't heard any objections from the minor league."  
   "We went upstairs and did what had to be done," Mike replied, "aside from _one_ careless swing, it all went the way it was supposed to I reckon."  
   "Oh? What happened with that?"  
   "I .. I guess my arm was gettin a little tired," Mike said, his voice having suddenly become very small, "On the last lick I musta had a spasm or sumthin.. my aim went south n I cracked him on his bare legs on accident."  
   "I _see_. Is he okay?"  
   "He's got some purty nasty welts on his thighs. I felt s'bad I fell to my knees n cried like a big ol baby. He was right kindly about it, even sent Micky out to make sure I was alright afterward. He's some piece’a _work_ that Tiny."  
   "So you two have _reconciled_ the matter then?"  
   "I b'lieve so. I apologized right off.. _meant_ it too. He insisted he knew I didn't mean for it to happen."  
   "Well then the job was done. Accidents happen Mike - don't beat yourself up over it."  
   "C'mon Pete don't do this," Micky pleaded as the two came on the back door, "We can do something else and I'll get you _another_ one later today!"  
   "I'm sorry Micky; I just don't feel like playing anymore, if I see the ocean I just _know_ I'll start crying again!"  
   "What in the _world_ is goin on now?"  
   "It's my fault, but before you get to slapping me around Mike I **promise** I'll replace Peter's frisbee!"  
   A sad scowl on his face Peter was already near to tears again.  
   "Shotgun would ya go on out n check the mailbox?"  
   "Mike it's-"  
   " _Please_ Cotton?"  
   "I (sniff) I guess so (sniff) Michael."  
   "You realize it's Sunday, don't you? No mail."  
   "I know _that_ Micky, I didn't want Peter to hear this less he starts to caterwaulin’ again. So, _what happened_?"  
   "We were playing frisbee and I dunno how really I wasn't paying attention but somehow we got turned around a bit and on my last throw Pete's back was to the water. I guess I threw it too hard and he missed it.. it sailed over his head landing about thirty feet into the ocean and floated away. I'm _sorry_ man."  
   "And you reckon I was gonna wallop you for _THAT_? Come on Micky, really."  
   "Well.. you have been a little _over_ -protective lately…”  
   "Unless you're gonna stand like a mouthy lil squirt half my size n cuss out my boyfriend, I'd say you're relatively safe."  
   "Oh."  
   "I checked the mailbox, it's empty."  
   "Thanks anyway shotgun. Now go on n wash your face a bit. We'll head out after while n buy you a _brand new_ frisbee."  
   "Yippee!"  
   "Y'all go and wash your _feet_ off too - you're both getting sand all over my clean kitchen floor!"  
   Glancing down at the barefooted pair Tony stared slack jawed in disbelief - it suddenly hit him what he'd failed to realize during his early-morning encounter with Davy:  
        At three am, wearing only his pajama shorts - fresh out of bed for a glass of milk - Davy had sand on his feet.  
   "I'll be a _son_ -of-a-"  
   "It's not a big deal Tony, Micky can clean it up!"  
   "I'm going to tear him a _new_ ass!" he said, getting to his feet.  
   "Easy killer," Mike said taking him by the arm, "I dunno who you're gonna take apart, butcha know ya cain't do squat when you're all fired up. Set back down n tell me what's got you actin like a tumbleweed in a tornado."  
   Over a fresh cup of coffee, laced with a little whiskey, Tony described to Mike his visit in the wee hours that morning, following it up with the epiphany of what his oversight had been. Still fairly angry, though much calmer, he opted for one more Irish coffee before confronting his defiant young ward.  
   "Any idear how you're gonna handle this?"  
   "Before or _after_ I bust his chops?"  
   "C'mon now, that'eres my kinda talk. You bein' the voice of patience and reason I expect better n that. Now whatcha gonna do?"  
   "Oh _shit_ ," Micky muttered, walking into the conversation, "What'd Davy do _now_?"  
   "Apparently he's taken it upon himself to decide if _and when_ he is allowed to leave the house, taking a particular shine to late night dalliances on the beach!"  
   "You want me to go wake him up?"  
   "Absolutely _not_ , I intend to take him by surprise in just a few moments. Perhaps half asleep and with his guard down, I'll get a straight answer out of him as to his whereabouts last night. I expect everyone to stay downstairs and _out_ of the matter completely - _got_ it?"  
   Draining his coffee cup in one slug, he stood and with a deep breath, took to the stairs. Marching determinedly to the bedroom door he waltzed inside without a second thought.  
   Turning to Mike, mild fear in his eyes, Micky shook his head.  
   "You couldn't pay me enough to be in Davy's shoes right now," he said, "there's not enough money in the _world_!"

   In three long strides Tony was at Davy's bedside, the sleeping youth curled up on his side looking angelic as ever in his slumber. One look at the cherubic face and he was ready to slip out the balcony door, leaving the task and its target behind. Before his resolve could crumble entirely, he brought a hand to the young man's shoulder, roughly shaking him awake.  
   " **Davy**!"  
   "Wha'!"  
   "Sit up, we need to talk."  
   "Are ya _crazy_? You scared shit outta me! You tryin to **_stop me 'eart_** or wha'?"  
   "Explain to me why you went out again last night - in the middle of the night of all times - directly disobeying the explicit instructions I gave you after your little vacation at Ben Worthington's the other day?!"  
   ".. I dunno what-"  
   " _ **DON'T LIE TO ME**_! I _saw_ the sand on your feet this morning Davy! Now I want the _truth_ from you - or you can pack a bag and we'll drive straight to L.A. where you can begin your **INPATIENT TREATMENT**!"  
   Shrinking beneath Tony's angry voice Davy drew back against the headboard, the stark fear in his eyes overshadowed only by the trembling in his terrified frame. Swallowing nervously he licked his lips, afraid to break eye contact he stared into the stormy visage of his guardian.  
   "A- _alright_ \- I went _out_ lahst night - but I _d-didn't_ go to Rocket's n I didn't get into _anythin_ ' I'm n-not supposed to. I just went fer a walk, _Tony I **swear**_!"  
   "You were prepared to lie straight to my face with your ' _I dunno what you mean_ ' routine - how am I supposed to believe you now?"  
   "I guess there's nothing I can say or do to convince you one way or the othah.. except to say that I'm _s-so scared_ right now.. m'not gonna risk it by lying again."  
   "Why is it that you suddenly have a problem following my rules? This is very simple Davy, and yet you _insist_ on complicating things every step of the way!"  
   "It was the whipping really.. it made me think a lot about the things I've been doing lately. I - I'm not ' _appy_ with meself, n I just needed to walk n think."  
   "How many times have I told you that if you need something like that to _talk to me_?"  
   "In the middle of the _night_?"  
   " _ **ANYTIME**_! I can't stress that enough - you're not _grasping_ this kiddo - I'm here for you always, but when you work around me and defy me I have _no choice_ but to bring about the consequences that you've wrought for yourself!"  
   "Please Tony, give me anothah chance, I-"  
   "I've given you more than enough chances! This is the _last_ time Davy, I'm telling you straight up - if you set foot outside this house one more time without a chaperone and my explicit consent, this home treatment farce _is finished_! As for your punishment, you're not to step foot out of this room until further notice - a minimum of two weeks - no company, and Micky can either sleep on the sofa or stay over at my place until you're ungrounded from this room. And if you break **THAT** rule, you're moving in with me! I've **_had_** it with you stepping all over my rules!"  
   " _Two weeks_?! I'm losing my mind ahftah _**one day**_! C'mon Tony tha's _not_ fair!"  
   "You trying to go for three?"  
   "This is _bullshit_!"  
   "Another word of sass from you and you can pack up and move in with me _now -_ and you'll stay in your room over there till this thing is finished - I'd consider it _carefully_ before opening my mouth if I were you!"  
   Silently glaring up at him Davy was seething, angry tears running down his fury-reddened cheeks.  
   "I'll make arrangements for your meds and meals to be brought up to you, and someone will see to your laundry as well. When I'm in a better frame of mind I'll be back to make a list of anything you may need from the store. Right now I'm going home, I need a break. Don't get any ideas about slipping past the boys; they'll be informed of the changes _before_ I leave the house."  
   Turning away, he crossed to the door and with all the grace he could muster he closed it gently behind him, leaving Davy to resolve his own anger. Stopping in the kitchen briefly, he explained to the guys in hurried detail the new conditions placed on their youngest housemate, excusing himself to the sanctity of his own home.


	17. Chapter 17

   Micky, Peter and Mike sat in the kitchen discussing their plans for lunch. Their quiet conversation was interrupted however by a thunderous crash from overhead. Before they could reach the spiral staircase, a venomous string of curse words in a crisp British accent came shouting from the upstairs bedroom, followed by a series of crashes and shattering.  
  Racing up the steps they burst into the room, ducking in the nick of time as Davy, in an outright rage, pitched a vase through the air, shattering it against the doorframe. In utter shock the three men stood  
flabbergasted, watching as the tiny tyrant, in a fit of temper, destroyed the room piece by piece.  
   "M'notta **_fucking kid_** you _**sonofabitch**_ this is _BLOODY **BULLSHIT**_!" He shouted, kicking a box of odds and ends from Micky's science experiments.  
   Peeking out from behind the door Mike and Micky continued to watch the tirade, frozen in place by the spectacle in front of them. No one had noticed Peter slip downstairs - calling Tony - who was now approaching the others from behind. Pushing past them he stepped into the room, just as Davy grabbed up the desk chair and launched it through the window of the balcony door. In a deafening crash, the old entryway exploded outward, glass and wood spraying in every direction.  
   The angry Italian strode to him, shouting his name as he went. As Davy turned to face him, fury still etched on his tight features Tony's right hand flashed out quick as lightning, slapping him squarely across the face with a loud crack. He paled, leaving a red handprint that stood out on his cheek like a neon sign, a beacon that screamed out in the sudden silence of the demolished room. The two stood staring at each other, Tony in angry shock - Davy panting and sweaty, a mixture of fear and indignation in his eyes.  
   "What in _God's name_ has **_possessed_** you? What do you mean by **_wrecking_** this room - **_destroying_ ** this house?! _HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND DAVY_?"  
   Unable to form words the young man stood staring at him, frustrated tears spilling down his cheeks as he trembled, ashamed, before his friends.  
   "Gentlemen, _leave us_."  
   Recognizing in his tone that this was not a request but an order, the three housemates left the situation in Tony's hands, retreating to the peaceful safety of the kitchen.  
   "I don't know _what_ makes you think that this type of behavior is allowed, but _it is not_. I don't care how angry or upset you are or what it's about, you will **NEVER** pull a stunt like this again, _**do you understand me**_?"  
  Davy nodded mutely, his anger dissipating, he knew only too well the enormity of his foolish behavior and the consequences he was facing.  
   "You are going to clean up this mess and I mean _right now_. Everything you destroyed that has to be repaired or replaced and you _WILL_ work to pay for. You have three hours to put this room back to rights, or I am going to tear you a new ass - you can _count on it_ \- I don't care _how_ old you are. We'll discuss your punishment later, when I **don't** feel like breaking your little neck. Now get busy!"  
   Without another word, he turned and left the room, joining the others in the kitchen for a much-needed cup of tea. Sitting at the table he sensed a tension - a heavy feeling between them - that he knew he needed to address.  
   "Alright, let's get this out on the table. I have the distinct feeling that at _least_ one of you has a problem with how I handled things up there."  
   " **Damn** Tonio," Micky spoke up, "did you _**have**_ to slap the _shit_ out of him?"  
   "Ahh, that's what I thought. You feel I overreacted amici? Tell me, how _else_ was I to handle it?"  
   "I don't know," he said through his tears, "maybe I'm wrong Tony. It just **_killed_** me when you did that. I mean he's all _fucked up_ ya know."  
   "Believe me Micky, I do. He must understand, however, that he _cannot_ terrorize this house or the people and property in it."  
   "I **hate** violence," Peter said softly, "I _always_ think there's a better way to solve any problem. But man he was _so_ out of control up there Micky; I don't know how else Tony was supposed to snap him out of it."  
   "He's right shotgun, I mean come on, he _almost_ hit all three of us with that dadburned vase!"  
   "Mike, I'm calling a repairman out here - I'll have that door fixed today - on me. Davy will work to pay me back, I'm sorry."  
   "I appreciate that, but it ain't your fault. I got somebody that does good work fairly cheap if you want his number."  
   "Thank you, that would be great."

  Upstairs Davy was sifting through the rubble that was his and Micky's things, trying to restore order to the nightmare he'd made of their private space. Picking through the debris he drew in a sharp breath, dropping to his knees in a sudden burst of tears. There in a pile of broken nic-nacs - the shattered lenses dislodged from their slots - lay Micky's prized microscope, damaged when he had blindly been throwing whatever he could reach against the walls. Clutching it to his chest he broke into sobs, suddenly so ashamed of himself he could hardly bear the pain.  
   Moving to the bed, he gently laid it under his pillow, hoping that somehow it could be repaired. His heart broken, he went soberly about his work, his thoughts a myriad of self-deprecation and humility: He'd done it again: hurt someone that truly cared about him. Only this time it was his own stupidity that had brought it about, and he would go to the ends of the earth to make things right.

  When the repairman arrived, Tony led him upstairs to have a look at the wreckage, hoping for a reasonable estimate. Examining the damaged door, Jimmy "Lucky" Fields pronounced it dead on the scene, recommending a whole new one, frame and all.  
   "I can have it done today - few hours truth be told. Need to clear everyone out of this room, it's gonna be real noisy and dusty. Run about two hundred eighty dollars."  
   "Go ahead then," Tony nodded, "Can you take a check or do I need to run to the bank?"  
   "Check is fine; I'll go down n get my tools."  
   To save his lungs and ears Tony permitted Davy to sit on the sofa while the repairs were being made. He was instruced to keep to himself and the boys were reminded of the 'no company' rule. When lunch was ready, Davy took his meal alone in the living room. Finished eating, he asked to speak to Tony alone.  
   "What do you need Davy?"  
   "I know I don't deserve any special privileges, but I was wondering if I could 'ave a pen and some paper."  
   "I don't see any harm in it; may I ask what you plan on doing with it?"  
   "If you insist, I'll tell you, but if it's all the same to you I'd rather not say just now. You'll know soon enough, all of you."  
   "Alright kiddo, I'll bring them to you in a minute."  
  
   Through the buzz and drone of the repairs being made above, Davy sat meticulously writing for the better part of an hour. When he was through, he stepped timidly into the kitchen where everyone else was gathered.  
   "What are you doing kiddo; you're not supposed to be up off of the couch."  
   "I.. I know, I'm sorry. I'll go right back to it Tony - I .. please - I _need_ to do this!"  
   "Do what Davy?"  
   "If you'll permit me, I 'ave a lettah fer each of you. I don't need to stay while you read them - if you _choose_ to - I just …”  
   Suddenly at a loss for words Davy looked down, unable to meet his gaze he focused on his own feet. Tears of frustration welling in his eyes he swallowed hard to keep from crying like a frightened child. Compassion in his heart, Tony came to the rescue.  
   "That will be fine kiddo; you may hand out your letters, then resume your place on the sofa. Calm down okay."  
   Davy nodded. Making his way around the table, he extended to each of his mates the carefully worded letters - folded neatly in half - with trembling hands and hope in his heart. Taking a side trip to the bathroom, he sat back on the sofa,  waiting to return to his room. In the kitchen, Tony and the others talked quietly among themselves, their words too softly spoken to be discerned. Moments later, Tony called Davy to join them.  
   "First off let me say that you are by no means off the hook on _ANY_ of the things that have taken place."  
   "No sir, I don't expect to be."  
   "That's good. I want to acknowledge your effort to step up and be man enough to apologize to everyone, as your behavior has affected the entire family Davy. All of us would like to address you in regard to the letters of apology you've written each of us, and kudos for making them individualized and personal. I will begin by saying first that I accept your apology. I'm grateful that you are aware of your wrongdoing and appreciate the promise of a better attitude. Not to say that I've heard it before kiddo, but _show me -_ don't tell me."  
   "Yessir, I'm gonna make every effort to do just that. Thank you."  
   "Thank you for the letter Davy," Peter said with smiling eyes, "it means a lot to me, and of _course_ I forgive you. I have to tell you though, you scared the shit out of me today, and you were totally awake and with it this time. I don't like drama and I hate violence, it makes me so nervous. Please Davy, please stop."  
   Ashamed for frightening his softhearted, peace-loving pal, Davy hung his head. Not knowing what to say, he mutely nodded his agreement.  
   "I guess that brings us to me," Micky said, "I love you little one and I accept your apology. Forgiveness is natural for me where you're concerned, but Davy you can't possibly know how much you freaked me out today. I am _really_ upset that you broke my microscope, I scrimped and saved _forever_ to buy it. I know you said you'd replace it, but you can't - they don't make that model anymore. I don't understand why you did what you did, but I do forgive you."  
   "Micky I'm _so sorry_! You pick out the one you want - _regardless_ of the cost - n I'll see to it you get it, right outta _my money_!"  
   "It's not important right now babe, but thanks."  
   "You'll work it off with _me_ as well, I hope you understand that!"  
   "Yessir, quite clearly."  
   "Well I reckon that leaves _me_ Tiny."  
   Davy swallowed nervously, as this was the conversation he was dreading the most - the person he was most unsure of - and a flock of geese chose this exact moment to fly through his stomach, moving southward in a giant vee.  
   "I'm not gonna get all hearts n flowers on ya like ever'body else, I'm just gonna tell ya straight up how I'm feelin' 'bout all of this. I'm _tired_ of your apologies Davy, and while I accept this one, this is the _LAST_ one I'm gonna take from you over this crap. You and your little temper tantrums - you destroyed a part of my house and my _serenity_ with it n I'm not gonna ask you to stop, I'm telling you _flat out_ \- if it happens again I'm gonna _beat your skinny lil English ass_ to a pulp. **Period**. Are we on the same page?"  
   "Yes Mike, I understand."  
   "Good. I don't want it to be like this between us Tiny but enough is enough. Bring back the sweet-faced, smiling, happy-go-lucky Davy that moved in here back in October - _that's_ the guy I miss."  
   "Don't mean to interrupt, but I'm all finished upstairs. Try not to touch anything; I slapped a coat of paint on the new doorframe - no charge."  
   "Wow Lucky, thanks a lot man!"  
   "You wanna come take a look at the job?"  
   "Sure," Tony smiled, "Let's have a look."  
   Tony and Mike, with Peter at his side, followed Lucky Fields up to the second floor. Left alone in the kitchen, Micky took an opportunity to speak to Davy alone.  
   "Listen Davy, I know I came off sounding like a real jerk a few minutes ago-"  
   "I deserved it, _and more_ Micky."  
   "Will ya just _listen_ to me! _**Yes**_ , I'm upset about my scope, but more than anything I was upset by what I _saw_. I never imagined you could be so.. angry - _violent_. It really shook me up. I **_love_** you cookie, there's not a whole lot you could _ever_ do to chase me away. I just wanted you to know that you're more important to me than that dumb old microscope."  
   "I don't know how you can still love me, but I love you too."  
   "Alright, you did a fantastic job Lucky," Tony admitted as they came down the stairs, "let me write you that check. Davy, you can go back to your room now, you still have a lot of work to do up there. Just don't touch the doorway, its gonna be tomorrow before the paint fully dries."  
   "Yessir, going now."  
                                                                                      *****  
   After supper, Tony went up to speak to Davy and check on his progress with the mess. To his surprise, the room was immaculate, looking as if the outburst had never happened.  
   "Well I'm impressed kiddo, it looks better in here than it did before you had your little _fit_.. which brings me to my visit."  
   "Whatevah punishment you decide on Tony, I'm ready to accept."  
   "That's good to hear, I'm not in the mood to struggle with you just now. While I appreciate your apologies to the family, it could easily be misconstrued as a blatant attempt to walk away with a more _lenient_ punishment, any thoughts on that?"  
   "I - tha's _not_ wha' I was ahftah Tony I _**swear**_!" he said vehemently, "I really _meant **everything**_ I said in those lettahs!"  
   "Alright Davy, calm down. Tell me something, if you were me and I were you, what would you do to punish me for this stunt?"  
   "I dunno.”  
   "You're going to have to do better than that, because I'm seriously considering having you come up with your own punishment on this one."  
   "Yer joking!"  
   "Not in the least."  
   "I wouldn't know where to stahrt, 'ow am I supposed to -"  
   "Probably the same way that you were perfectly capable of wrecking this room, trashing someone else's home and destroying other people’s property - with a lot of determination and a bit of that _Manchester attitude_."  
   "Yer really _serious_ about this!”  
   "The general consensus downstairs it that you need another ass-whipping, though not from Mike but from _me_ this time. God help me Davy I'm beginning to wonder if they aren't right! I am _NOT_ getting through to you - if anything, things have gone from bad to worse! If I don't see a positive change A.S.A.P. - I'm going to have to take _drastic_ measures!"  
   Thoroughly chastised Davy sat mutely staring up at him, trembling and on the verge of tears. Tony looked at him not with anger now, but with sadness, frustration and fear.  
   "I cahn't apologize again, it's pointless really. I've done it s'much n turned round and done more - but Tony, if you'll just give me one _lahst chance_ \- I'll get my shit together. I don't deserve it, but so help me if you'll just do this fer me, I _will_ earn yer faith back. I swear. Give me the whipping if you think I deserve it, lock me in my room - lock me in _YOUR_ room - but Tony, I'm _begging_ you, please - _**don't send me away**_."  
   " _Send you away_?"  
   "I know I've made threats meself, but I don't _wanna_ go back to England - please, **_PLEASE_** give me one more shot!"  
   "Davy I wasn't even _considering_ the idea of giving up custody of you! I _don't_ give up on the people I care about, **ever**. When I said drastic measures, I was talking about taking you home with me, cutting out all privileges, limiting your relationship with Micky and keeping you in the house until your behavior improves. I will **NEVER** throw you away!"  
   Bursting into sobs Davy threw himself into Tony's arms, relief pouring out of him in a watery gush as he cried on his sturdy chest. Stroking the silky hair and cradling him in his arms, the older man soothed him, rocking him in his protective arms till he cried out all of his fears. Finally calm, Tony eased him away, softly brushing away the last remaining salty tears from his upturned face.  
   "Go and wash your face kiddo, I'll be waiting when you come back."  
Nodding, Davy rose and tottered on shaky legs into the bathroom. When he returned, Tony gestured for him to sit beside him.  
   "I've made a decision. Your punishment for this incident Davy will be to do the work I offered you for my friend, two days worth - fairly hard, _heavy_ work. It will suffice to begin paying for the damages and a new microscope for Micky. Is there anything else that needs to be repaired or replaced?"  
   "No sir, just some things of mine that I broke, nothing I deserve to have replaced."  
   "You're certain?"  
   " ... The desk chair didn't quite make it."  
   "One desk chair. Your two-week restriction to your room still stands, beyond your appointments and any _NECESSARY_ outings. Micky will be staying in my guest room as of tonight."  
   "Will you be - erm …” he trailed off.  
   "What kiddo?"  
   "Am I to be _whipped_ again?"  
   "As much as I feel you _should_ be, no Davy."  
   A brief nod.  
   "I'm sending Micky up to get some things and then he'll be leaving with me; I don't expect him to be very long if you _catch my drift_."  
   "Yessir.. I assume conjugal visits are out of the question?"  
   "Let's just say it'll be an opportunity for both of you to build some forearm muscle. Good night Davy."  
   "G'night Tony, and thank you - fer everything."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Later that night, Micky paced the floor of Tony's second floor guest bedroom. Unaccustomed to sleeping alone he was having a hard time falling asleep without Davy by his side. Staring out the window at the moonlit beach, he did a double take - unable to believe his own eyes as a familiar shape crept along the breakers near the shoreline below. Slipping downstairs on silent feet, he tiptoed out the back door, creeping up behind the lone figure walking stealthily away from their shared home. As Davy broke into a trot in front of him, he sprinted forward, tackling him in the sand.  
   "Wha' the - **_MICKY_**!"  
   " _SHH_!"  
   "Bloody _hell_ babe, why'd ya jump on me?"  
   "What are you doing out here? And where are you going? You aren't supposed to be out here Davy, you're already in deep shit with Tony - you trying to go for the _big lockup_ or what?"  
   "I .. I was just takin' a lil walk.."  
   "You were _running_!"  
   "Okay so I've got some _energy_ to burn - but I wasn't going anywhere, I just needed some air. Wha're _you_ doin out 'ere?"  
   "Saving _your_ gorgeous behind! If Tony catches you, it's you that will be camping out in his guest room _not me_ \- probably permanently! It hasn't even been one night and I'm already going nuts without you, will you _PLEASE_ go back upstairs before he sees you!"  
   "Come on Micky please, just a _short_ walk - I won't be long, Mike'll be there with my medicine at three o'clock n-"  
   "Little one, don't make _ME_ take you over my knee - I can _do_ it too! Go on Davy, please."  
   "Yer right, m'sorry. I shouldn't have ahsked you to lemme go."  
   Sharing a quick kiss Micky stood, offering Davy his hand to help him to his feet. Brushing the sand from each other they parted ways, and headed to the neighboring houses.  
   Back in his room Davy sent a text message, punching at the keys in aggravation he quickly rattled off:

                                             GOT SIDELINED WON'T BE THERE TILL AROUND 12:30

  Moments later the reply came:

                                                I'LL B HERE.. GONNA COST YA - WEAR THE RED

  Sighing he deleted both messages. Going to the dresser he sifted through the drawer until he found what he needed, stepping into the bathroom to change his clothes. When he emerged, he sat on the bed and dealt yet another game of solitaire, biding his time until he could once again venture outside.


	18. Chapter 18

   "WOOHOO!" Mike shouted as he hung up the phone.  
   "You okay Mike?"  
   "What the heck?" Micky asked, surprised by the unusual outburst from the reserved Texan.  
   "What is it Michael?"  
   " _THAT_ was R.A. Zucker, business manager at Club Durango - Get this: They looked at our demo video and want to talk to us ahead of the audition, they think _we're_ the sound they're looking for! We've been invited to hang out Friday night at the club and have a meeting with him when they close up for the night!"  
   " _THIS_ Friday night?" Tony asked.  
   "Heck yes, isn't that _AWESOME_?!"  
   "That's incredible! We're a _shoe-in!"_  
   "Fame and fortune here we come!"  
   "Uh fellas, I hate to rain on your parade, but there are a couple of problems."  
   "Like what?"  
   "Well for starters, Davy is not leaving his room to go enjoy an evening at a club."  
   " _Shit_."  
   "No problem," Mike assured everyone, "I'll just tell the manager that he's sick."  
   "Well that leaves us with one more little wrinkle. Robbie is going to be in L.A. Friday on a business trip as part of his classes, but only for the _one_ night. He and I have plans for a late dinner and drinks that night at his hotel, so nobody is going to be home to Davy-sit."  
   " _ **Shit**_!" Micky said again.  
   "So, talk to the lil - to _Davy_ ," Mike offered, "Threaten him to behave or _else:_ We'll only be gone for about four hours, how much trouble can he get into alone in that amount of time?"  
   "Come on Tone, this could be a _huge_ breakthrough for us, can you at least think about it?"  
   "Well.. He does seem to be rather concerned about being shipped off. I'll discuss it with him and let my gut instinct decide for me."  
   "Worse comes to worst we could always hire a sitter."  
   "For a _**nineteen** year old man_?"  
   "You got any better ideas shotgun?"  
   "Guys, let _ME_ handle this, I'm sure we can work it all out. Meanwhile, has anyone fed our boy this morning?"  
   " _Oops_."  
   "Really? Has he at least had his _meds_?"  
   "That he did get."  
   "I'll go talk to him. I'll see what I can get him to eat and work Friday into the conversation."

  Upstairs Davy was in the bathroom when Tony came into his room. Not wanting to catch him au naturale, he hollered through the closed door alerting him of his presence.  
   "Erm.. I'll be out in a jiff," he called, "just.. brushing my teeth."  
   Tony stood admiring the handiwork of the new door as he waited for his charge to finish his morning primping, impressed again with the quality of a job so quickly done.  
   "Looks pretty good eh?" Davy said from behind him.  
   "Yes, definitely. Not thrilled about the process of _HOW_ it came about, but it’s most certainly an improvement. Need to talk to you, pull up some mattress."  
   "What'd I do now?"  
   "Nothing kiddo," he chuckled, "I just discovered that you haven't had any breakfast and thought I'd offer to buy you something. Anything in particular you're in the mood for?"  
   "You don't hafta do that Tony, I'd be fine with some toast and coffee."  
   "Not a very healthy start to the day. We can stop anywhere you like, it is Monday - you have therapy with Paul."  
   "S'very nice of you, but if it's all the same to you, I don't feel like I deserve anythin' special. Maybe pick up somethin' fer the fellas on the way 'ome?"  
   "You confuse me do you know that! One minute you act like the demon seed and the next thing you come off like an alter boy. I'll tell you what; I'll spring for lunch if you'll agree to eat some of it."  
   " ... All right, but it has to be somethin' the fellas want. I have the feeling that this isn't why you 'ad me sit down."  
   "No, it isn't. Something has come up Davy and I need to know if I can put my trust in you for a few hours. I really want to, but I need to hear from your own mouth that you're not going to let me down."  
   "Okay, wha's going on?"  
   "I'll be leaving Friday evening to go to L.A.: Robbie will be in town for the night and he and I made plans for a late supper and a little catch-up time. As it turns out, Mike got a call just a few minutes ago inviting you four to the Durango Friday night to hang out for a bit and then meet with the manager, a _Mr. Zucker_ , about headlining at the club. _You_ however will not be attending. I need to know that we can leave you alone here and expect you to follow the rules and restrictions that are laid out for you. The alternative is to hire a sitter."  
   "I suppose that was Mike's idea," he grinned. "Tony, I promise you I'll be as good as gold."  
   "I mean it Davy, no sneaking out, no running around the house. You may of course get something to eat or drink if you want, but that is the _limit_!"  
   "Yessir, I understand. I'm done with me antics Tony, you can count on me."  
   "I'll check in on you by phone or text, and you can call any of us if you have an emergency."  
   "I know, but it'll be okay."  
   "Don't let me down. I'll be downstairs, you can come down and have a bite to eat if you like, we need to leave for your appointment in about half an hour."  
   "Thanks Tony, I'll be down in a minit."

  As Davy finished getting dressed his cell phone vibrated, alerting him to a new message. A nervous shiver ran through him as he read the words - words that would set in motion a series of events that could easily be his undoing:

                                      BOUGHT YOU A WINDOW  
                                       SEE U FRIDAY NIGHT  
                                          R.A. ZUCKER lol

   Sighing he pulled on his shoes and headed down to the kitchen, suddenly no longer hungry. Slugging back a cup of coffee he sat at the table, distracted and quiet, until it was time to leave.  
                                                                                      *****  
   "Morning Davy, how was your weekend?"  
   "Hey Paul, it could've been bettah but I think things are lookin up."  
   "Anything I should know about?"  
   "Probably, but I think I'm gonna plead the fifth. Anyway it's all behind me."  
   "Well that's good to hear, I hope it wasn't anything too serious."  
   "Just me being a bit temperamental, no casualties unless you count the door. On a brighter note m'not having so much nausea."  
   "That's a good sign, tells me the withdrawals are abating. How are you eating, you look like you've lost a few pounds."  
   "I'm doin alright, just not had much of an appetite I suppose. I do eat three meals though, Tony sees to that."  
   "Stand-up guy that Tony. Punch a door didja?"  
   "Yer slick, I'll give ya that - I almost _responded_ to that."  
   "Why don't you want to talk about it?"  
   "Because I'm _ashamed_ of m'self, I'd just as soon nobody else knows what a jerk I was."  
   "Suppose I told you I already know what happened."  
   ".. I cahn’t b’lieve To- _no_.. You'd have already launched into it, not been fishing for an ahnsah."  
   "Touché, you're pretty slick yourself. Try to remember, this is where you are _SUPPOSED_ to talk about your feelings, but I'm going to drop the subject now. Tell me something positive that happened to you since we met last."  
   "I’ve got a spiffy new door to the balcony outside my room."  
   "Ahh the irony," he laughed, "did you bring your journal?"  
   "Erm.. _oops_."  
   "Are you even using it?"  
   "Most days, yes."  
   "How about the day we lost the door?"  
   "Funny, but it seemed to have disappeared in the rubble that day," he grinned sheepishly.  
   "Why don't you give me some time alone with Tony."  
   "Okay. So.. yer gonna ahsk 'im about the door, aren't you?"  
   "Not if you don't want me to."  
   "It's gonna sound worse from 'is point of view, I'm sure," Davy sighed, "I'd rather we talk about it when _I'm_ ready Paul."  
   "Fair enough. I just wanna check on a few details, I may make some adjustments to your meds. Scouts honor."  
   "Thanks, I'll get 'im fer ya."  
  
   "So," Davy asked timidly on the drive home, "What'd you and Paul talk about?"  
   "Just the usual, why?"  
   ".. oh. Anything in _particular_ come up?"  
   "If you're wondering if he knows about your little temper tantrum Davy, no, we didn't discuss it. It came up to the extent that he told me you'd mentioned it very briefly, but insisted that it remains between the two of you as a therapeutic topic."  
   Smiling inwardly, Davy privately thanked Paul for honoring his word, his confidence in the man jumping by leaps and bounds.  
   "Does that make you mad?"  
   "Not at all. You and I have talked about it at some length. If you want to hash it over in private with your therapist kiddo, I'll be happy to leave you two to it. I appreciate that you're willing to take it to that level, at least you're utilizing the counseling the way it's supposed to be."  
   "What did the fellas want fer lunch?"  
   "Mondo Burger specials and onion rings all around, what about you?"  
   "I'll just 'ave a coke if it's alright."  
   "Well it _isn't_ alright; you _**promised**_ me you'd eat lunch."  
   "I did, didn't I.. Okay I'll 'ave the same, extra cheese."  
   "What's happened to your appetite Davy, you've always out-eaten the rest of us?"  
   "S'from throwin’ up so much I suppose, me stomach's shrunk a bit. I'll work on it, it's just gonna take some time to build it back up."  
   "Well, don't make this a habit, these skimpy meals; you cannot afford to _lose_ any more weight."  
                                                                                      *****  
    That afternoon Tony put Davy to work painting the upstairs balcony's railing and door frame. The weather was ideal for it, and it would be the continuation of the restitution work Davy would perform to help pay for the damages. Secretly, Tony knew it would be good for him to be out in the sun for a few hours, breaking up the monotony of the cabin fever. Working diligently Davy primed the old wood, sanding down any rough spots before applying the fresh paint. When he was finished, even Mike was impressed with his work.  
   "I'll be _dogged_ Tiny you done a great job!"  
   "Thanks Mike, you really like it?"  
   "By golly I do, looks right new again!"  
   "I'm really impressed kiddo; you worked hard and did a fantastic job. Well done Davy."  
   "Thank you. I'm gonna grab a shower, I smell like an old goat," he laughed, "any chance I can come get a coke when I'm finished?"  
   "Absolutely," Tony beamed, "not going to be a habit, but you earned it."  
  
   Downstairs Davy came into the kitchen for his drink, and was nearly bowled over by Micky - who was beyond excited to see him.  
   "Oh my _God_ babe! Come here and let me hold you - Tony can I hug him - _**PLEASE**_ say I can hold him for _JUST_ a minute I swear I'll back off when you say but _GOD_ Davy I miss you - did you get taller? Does he look _taller_ Mike? Oh man do you smell good and-"  
   " **Micky**!"  
   "I - _huh_?"  
   "Mellow out. This isn't a prison you can hug him, and no he isn't any taller - but no more caffeine for you today okay?"  
   "Oh. Okay Tone."  
   "Yer a _nut_ ya know that, c'mere you and kiss me!"  
   Holding each other as if they hadn't seen one another in months they kissed passionately, hugging so tightly that across the room you could hear Davy's back crack.  
   "Hug him shotgun, but leave him in one piece," Mike chuckled, "we need him for rehearsal ya know."  
   "Rehearsal? I'm grounded to my room.. unless you know somethin' _I don't_."  
   "Since things are looking good for the job at the club Davy I decided to grant the boys' request to allow you to come down for rehearsals. Today will be the first."  
   "Tha's very kind of you, thanks Tony - n thank you fellas fer ahskin 'im. With the way I've behaved lately, I'm grateful you still want me in the band."  
   "Well Davy today is a new day," Mike smiled, "just keep putting your best foot forward. Now I've made copies of the set list for everybody, when we play the club they will be taped to the floor so I figure that's where we'll put em now. Go ahead n look em over first."  
   "You gonna hang around and listen Tone?"  
   "Don't I always amici?"  
  
   Rehearsals went well and Davy reluctantly went back to his room to wait for supper. Locking himself in the bathroom, he reached into the cubbyhole in the linen closet and retrieved the plastic bottle from its hiding spot, emptying it into the toilet bowl. Tucking the empty bottle back into its niche, he made quick work of undoing his fly and having a little target practice with the suboxone floating in the commode. Finished with his business he flushed, waiting to see that every pill he'd secretly spit into the bottle had washed down the drain. With a sip of water, he swallowed the three hydrocodone tablets in his hand and settled down on his bed for a leisurely nap.  
       He didn't get very far.  
   "Davy?" Tony called as he knocked on the door, "Can I come in?"  
   "Sure, why not."  
   Stepping inside Tony sat on the edge of the bed with a large box in his hands.  
   "Wha's in the box?"  
   "It's the new microscope we ordered for Micky, I thought perhaps you'd like to be the one to give it to him."  
   "I cahn't b'lieve it's already come! Yes, _thank you_ \- I'd really like that!"  
   "I had it express delivered from the warehouse this morning, and it's insured for two years."  
   "Just in case eh," Davy said with a tinge of red on his cheeks.  
   "No, it has nothing to do with you or fits of temper. Accidents happen, I just thought it'd be a wise investment. I'll send Micky up, but don't take a mile here, understand?"  
   "Yessir,” he grinned, “clearly."  
   "Oh, I thought I'd let you know I've credited you for today's work, you owed a total of seven hundred four dollars and eleven cents - minus what you’ve earned so far leaves you owing five hundred sixty-four dollars worth."  
   " ** _Crikey_**! I'll be workin' this off till I'm _thirty_!"  
   "Not necessarily, depends on the work you do. Some work will pay more, but you will make no less than ten dollars an hour - as credit of course."  
   "Well at least I won't lack for something to do," he grinned.  
   "That's for sure, nice that you can keep your sense of humor kiddo. I'll send him up."  
   A few minutes later Micky slipped into the room, ecstatic to be alone with Davy, even if for a few moments.  
   "Hey little one, Tony said you wanted to see me? I can't _believe_ he let me come up here! What's up?"  
   "I erm sorta 'ave something 'ere fer ya," he said, reaching behind him for the heavy cardboard box, "I 'ope it's right."  
   "What is it?"  
   "Open it and find out!"  
   Fumbling with the heavy tape Micky finally managed to open the shipping box. When he removed the bubble wrap, his eyes grew large with excitement and awe.  
   " _OH MY GOD DAVY_!"  
   "Is it the wrong one?" Davy teased with a grin.  
   " **NO**! I mean it _IS_ , but - it's the one I wanted before but couldn't afford! _How_? **_WHY_**?"  
   "I told Tony I wanted you to 'ave the best.. he made it 'appen. I take it you like this one then?"  
   "If we were allowed any time baby I'd _SHOW_ you how much I like it! Do you have any idea how expensive this is?"  
   "Yaa, but s'what I wanted you to have. I'm so sorry 'bout what I did to the othah one…”  
   "Babe that's all behind us; like Mike said, today is a new day. Come here little one."  
   Micky took him in a tight embrace that was meant only to thank him, but built quickly into a heated frenzy of kissing and petting, their hands roaming the contours of each other’s eager bodies. Forgetting the rules, they let their desires drive them, delicious moans and grunts urging each other to kiss, touch, and probe.  
   Their breath was coming in gasps and pants when a sudden harsh call came reverberating up the stairs.  
   "You two cut that out _now_! Micky, come down here!"  
   "Bloody _hell_ \- 'ow does 'e just _KNOW_ things?"  
   " _Shit_!" Micky sighed, "He's always been a little spooky like that. I gotta go before he grounds you longer."  
   "I'm as 'ard as a _rock_."  
   "Yaa me too. Just think about me.. ya know if you…”  
   "Right.. I love you."  
   "I love you too."

   The week passed quickly and in relative calm with everyone keeping fairly busy. An hour of rehearsal every day and working on the garden project for Tony's friend left Davy little time to get into mischief, and aside from his visits with Paul he spent most of his free time showering or sleeping. Tony had taken the Maserati for maintenance and a tune up in advance of Friday's trip, as well as a trip to the dry cleaners with his favorite dinner jacket. Mike spent time with Micky and Peter coaching them on some finer points of etiquette and details of deportment he was honing for the big meeting Friday night: By Thursday evening they were all polished and ready.  
   Friday morning in Paul's office Davy was distracted and quiet. Having a keen eye and knowing his client fairly well by now, Paul prodded him as to his peculiar mood.  
   "Where are you today Davy - you're _certainly_ not here."  
   "Sorry, just daydreaming I guess."  
   "Don't give me that, we've been at this long enough now, come on. What's on your mind kiddo?"  
   ".. I -" he hesitated, "Just some guilty feelings.. things - thing's I've done."  
   "You have to have a conscience, it's how we learn from our mistakes - how we grow and develop morals. It isn't healthy however to continue to kick yourself for them. Make reparations Davy and move forward."  
   "It isn't easy."  
   "Someone in the family giving you a hard time?"  
   "No, nothing like that.. it's just.. _me_."  
   "You bring your journal?"  
   "Yessir, 'ere ya go."  
   "Thank you, give me a minute here."  
   "Sure."  
   "Been working hard I see, good for you - its healthy for you to make amends, pay your debt. How do you feel about that?"  
   "Feels pretty good truthfully. I repainted the deck and door frame, and managed to replace the microscope of Micky's that I broke. I'm down to four hundred sixty four dollars I owe now."  
   "Good man, you'll get it chipped down. Here is your journal Davy. Any anxiety? Withdrawals?"  
   "Not really, s'been going very well. Think I'm finally gettin me appetite back too."  
   "Well, let's get you on the scale and see if you're making any headway."  
   "Okay."  
   " ... And one thirty nine. You've gained four pounds, way to _go_ Davy!"  
   "Hey cool, Tony will be glad to hear that!"  
   "Tell me something positive that happened to you since we met last."  
   "I haven't pissed anyone off all week."  
   "That _is_ a positive thing. Tell Tony I said hello, and I'll see you Monday morning!"  
   "Really?! Yer not gonna have.. ' _The Talk_ ' with 'im?"  
   "No, I don't see a reason. Have a great weekend Davy."  
   "You too Paul.. I - I'll try."


	19. Chapter 19

   The air in the beach house was electric all day Friday as everyone prepared for the nights adventures. Tony packed a duffel bag, intending to stay in LA for the night, and Micky and the boys spent hours carefully coordinating what they would wear for their meeting with the club manager. To simplify things, Tony ordered take-out for an early dinner to save time - Chinese food - Davy's favorite, generously allowing him to come downstairs and eat with the family.  
   "Okay kiddo, I've taken the liberty of writing a few things down for you. I know you have everyone's cell numbers, but just in case, here are the numbers to the club, and the hotel and restaurant where I'll be tonight - if for some reason you can’t get through on our phones. I'm sure you'll do just fine Davy, but you can _never_ be too prepared."  
   "Thanks Tony, I'll put this in me wallet."  
   "I'll be heading out after dinner, what time will you all be leaving here Mike?"  
   "We're supposed to be there around midnight, so probably around eleven forty-five I reckon."  
   "Alright, I'm going out on a limb here, but I believe it's time to take a leap of faith. Davy, I have your eight and ten o'clock meds - I'm giving them to you now and I'm counting on you to take them on your own at the right times - can I trust you to do that?"  
   " _Wow_! Sure Tony, that means a _lot_ to me!"  
   "This will free the guys up for any last-minute preparations, and kiddo I feel you're ready to take this responsibility, even if it's just for tonight."  
   "We'll be back around three a.m. Tiny, three-thirty at the latest - so you won't be on your own for _too_ long - but I think you'll be alright too."  
   "You're still grounded kiddo, but if you get hungry or thirsty you may come down and get something from the kitchen, we are eating fairly early after all and nobody will be home to get anything for you."  
   "Yessir, thank you Tony."  
                                                                                      *****  
   As the day wore on and evening darkened into night Davy became increasingly agitated, pacing the floor of his bedroom, his thoughts a tangle of fear and anticipation. The events that were about to unfold had him on edge, his immediate future dependent on how well he carried out the task before him. Shortly after eight, he forced himself to attempt a nap - wanting to be as sharp as possible when it counted - and soon he was adrift in a torturous sleep, his waking fears taking shape as the frightful landscape of scary dreams.  
   At eleven o'clock he awoke with a start, Micky at his side shaking him from his sleep.  
   "Easy little one - didn't mean to startle you."  
   "E _gad_ man! Ya nearly stopped my heart!"  
   " _Sorry_.. Mike asked me to let you know that we're leaving early. He wants to get up there and look around, get a good seat and stuff. You gonna be okay?"  
   "Yer leaving now?"  
   "Yaa."  
   "Yaa, course, I'll be fine."  
   "Alright, well I guess we'll see you later then."  
   "Okay.. _Micky_?"  
   "Yaa?"  
   " _I love you ._.."  
   "I love you too cookie."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Davy waited anxiously listening intently for the sound of the GTO spitting gravel as it pulled out of the driveway. In the bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water and quickly combed his hair. Grabbing up his cell phone he punched in Tony's number and waited nervously, hoping his voice would sound normal.  
   "Hello?"  
   "Hey Tony, I'm just checking in. I wanted to letcha know that the fellas just left, they wanted to get good seats for the show to size up the competition so they left a little early. Everything is fine here and I'm okay. I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head back up here to my room."  
   "Well thank you Davy, I appreciate you letting me know what's going on, _very_ responsible of you. Be sure to call me if you need to, okay kiddo?"  
   "I will. Tell Robbie I said hey."  
   "I'll do that. Good night kiddo."  
   "G'night."  
   Hanging up he pulled up another contact and sent a quick text:

                                                  COAST CLEAR  
                                                CAN I C U NOW?

  A moment later came the reply:

                                      HURRY UP - BRING IT WITH  
                                        YOU OR DON'T BOTHER

  Pocketing his phone, he hurried down the steps into the silent house. He stood for a moment staring at the bandstand, his heart pounding, knowing that everything he did beyond this moment was irreversible. With a heavy sigh he tugged on his sneakers, slipping into his blue canvas jacket. Pausing only a moment longer, he stepped up onto the platform and stood before Blond Beauty, Mike's prized twelve-string. An ominous thunderclap rumbled in the distance - a warning from the universe that he chose to ignore - and a brief flash of lightning illuminated the two of them, he and the guitar. His conscious gnawed at him and for a split-second he almost ran back up to his room, but the need burning inside him won out over logic and morals. Reverently he laid his hands on the instrument, lifting it gently from its stand. He slipped out the bay doors and onto the sand below, all thoughts of right and wrong erased from him: The only thing his weary mind could focus on now was the coming high. Picking up his pace, he moved across the empty beach toward his destination, and a decision that would surely lead to his own undoing.  
                                                                                      *****  
   "So our littlest is getting better eh paisano? It's good to know, I've been _so_ worried."  
   "It's been a hard road Robbie, but yes it seems he is _finally_ coming out of the woods. A terrible thing addiction, I've seen some horrors with this that I'd never imagined. And **_you_** \- il mio incredible amico; I still cannot **_believe_** this transformation! You look too impressive to _breathe_ on!"  
   "My sweet Antonio, you know it's just the Armani suit, I'm the same marcio piccola _peste_ of a boy who skinned his knee following you around _so many_ years ago."  
   "You were a persistent little _**MERDA**_.. so glad of it too. Poor Gerry will be heartbroken when I switch to you as my attorney."  
   "I would think he would be ecstatic, considering he's offered me a position in his firm upon graduation."  
   "Mi amici! Congratulations! I am _so pleased_ , and happily off the hook!"  
   "I'm sure that was half of his motivation in offering me the job. Knowing you wouldn't want to choose between us and where your loyalties lie. He made the most intelligent decision for his business and his friendships. Another drink?"  
   "I'm free for the evening, why not. Tonight we celebrate _you_ mi amico."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Walking into the Durango the boys were filled with a great excitement. A local hotspot the club was packed with writhing bodies shimmying to the music of the current headlining band. Navigating their way across the dance floor, they found a decent table near the bandstand, motioning for the waitress.  
   "What'll it be?" she hollered over the din.  
   "A Coke," Micky shouted.  
   "A beer."  
   "Shirley Temple please," Peter grinned.  
   "Whatta ya think of the band?"  
   "Not bad," Micky replied with a shrug, "but I think _we're_ better man."  
   "Atta boy shotgun, so do I."  
   "They have a good sound Michael, but their rhythm is off and they're lacking something that we have."  
   "What's that babe?"  
   "A cute little Englishman bopping around on the stage."  
   "So who's driving home?" Micky asked when the drinks arrived.  
   " _I_ am," Mike replied indignantly, "I don't plan on getting drunk Mick, just a couple of beers to help me relax - but if it comes down to it and I _can't_ drive, here are the keys to the GTO, okay?"  
   "Good deal, thanks Mike."  
   "I'm so _excited_ about this meeting!"  
   "Me too Cotton, I have a good feeling about this. I really think this is gonna be our big break!"  
   "Here's to our future," Micky raised his glass.  
   "To our future," Mike toasted.  
   They clinked glasses and drank to each other and their missing mate, excited for what the evening held.  
        _Unfortunately_.  
                                                                                      *****  
   Standing on the front stoop of Ben Worthington's house Davy hesitated, his hand raised to knock on the door frozen in mid-air, unable to proceed.  
           (Stop yer bloody waffling you _nebbish arse_ and bloody knock already)  
   With an itinerary of its own, his right fist darted forward, rapping sharply on the door. Startled by the sound Davy drew in his breath in a small gasp, his heart racing, he silently hoped that no one would answer. Seconds ticked by in a stretch that felt like an eternity, and suddenly the door swung open and he stood face to face with Ben.  
   "Well well, you actually _showed up_. I didn't think you had the balls kid, come in."  
   Standing in the foyer with the guitar clutched to his chest, Davy trembled, his knees knocking together so hard he was certain Ben could hear it.  
   "So this is _it_. Let me see it."  
   Swallowing hard, he handed the one-of-a-kind instrument to Rocket, a shiver of guilt running through him as it left his grasp.  
   "Nice," Ben said with a long whistle. "This will bring a _pretty penny_ on the market. Good work Jones."  
   Laying the Gretsch aside and out of Davy's reach Ben turned to the nervous young man with a cold, detached eye.  
   "Here ya go - just like I promised - _seventy-five hydros_. Pleasure doing business kid, but you're gonna have to **_split_** ," he said, backing him toward the door, "I have people coming over. _See ya round_."  
   His reward tucked safely in his pocket Davy stumbled back into the night, the patter of raindrops pelting his jacket seeming to him to taunt him with accusation.  
           ( _traitor_! _**thief**_! **back-stabber**!)  
   Breaking into a trot he sprinted for home running all the way, his chest burning, his mind a chaotic flurry of confused thoughts. Reaching the back of the house he vaulted up the steps onto the deck, his muddy shoes sliding on the wet wood nearly slamming him face first into the bay doors. Once inside, he went straight for the stairs, kicking his sneakers off at the bottom step, his wet jacket landing on the back of the couch as he hurried up the steps.  
   Once in the safety of his _own_ room Davy went straight to the bathroom sink, filling the tumbler with enough water to wash down his eagerly awaited night's earnings. Swallowing four of the white tablets at once he lay across the bed, eyes closed, and waited for the relief to come.  
           ( _Cannot_ get comfortable.. gotta make the place look like we had a break-in.. gotta clean up my _tracks_ )  
   Twenty-five minutes later, adrift on the pleasure of his high, Davy was snoring like a buzzsaw, fast asleep.  
                                                                                      *****  
   Two o'clock rolled around and the club emptied of its drunken patrons, most of whom still celebrated in the street on their way home. Micky, Mike and Peter remained seated at the table they'd occupied for most of the evening, a nervous excitement shining clearly on their faces.  
   "Excuse me gentlemen," a rather large man approached them, "but the club is closing for the night, I'll have to ask you to leave now."  
   "Oh," Mike answered, "well yes, but we have a meeting with the manager. If you'll tell him we're here my good man-"  
   "I'm sorry sir, but the manager is never on-site this late at night. _She_ doesn't feel comfortable about being here during drinking hours. There must be some mistake."  
   "Huh?" Micky asked in confusion. "Are ya _sure_?"  
   "We uh we got a phone call from the manager about meeting up with him to discuss a potential gig - a mister _Zucker_ \- R.A. Zucker?"  
   "I'm sorry gentlemen, no Zucker here. Let's get going fellows, I need to lock up."  
   "Sure man, no problem.. C'mon fellas."  
   Leading his men to the door Mike mumbled under his breath, angry and humiliated at having been duped.  
   ".. _WAIT_ just a **COTTON PICKIN MINUTE**! _**R.A. Zucker**_?" he shouted as they neared the car.  
   "What is it Michael?"  
   Micky looked at him in confusion.  
   "Doncha get it? The whole thing was a set-up - _a gag_ \- **_R.A. Zucker_**.. As in **You are a SUCKER**?! Fellas we've been _had_!"  
   "By who - and _why_?"  
   "I dunno yet, but by golly I'm _gonna_ find out!"  
   Against his better judgment Micky gave up the car keys to Mike, he was sober enough to drive after all but Micky was nervous about how angry he was: Mike had a habit of taking it out behind the wheel (or Peter) when he was uptight. As they pulled out onto the highway Mike jammed on the gas pedal. The GTO took off in a spray of gravel and squeal of tires, making the drive back to the beach house short and scary for the young drummer.  
   Walking into the house there were two things on the Texan's mind he was intent on getting his hands on to cool his temper: His lover - which _must_ wait until he was calmer - and his guitar. Playing music always soothed him and he fully intended to lock himself in his room and do exactly that. First through the door, he sensed immediately that something was wrong. Though the house was dark, an intermittent flash of lightning illuminated the room briefly and Mike knew at once that all was not well in his private sanctum.  
   Flipping on the overhead light he surveyed the room, taking in the changes from when they had left: Davy's jacket, damp and dripping, hanging in a tumble off the back of the sofa. Sandy, muddy footprints leading from the bay doors to the spiral staircase, ending at the Englishman's hastily discarded sneakers.  
   Whirling about he turned immediately to the bandstand. Following his wide-eyed stare Micky and Peter gaped at the obvious hole where Blond Beauty should have been.  
   They heard it before they saw him move for the stairs. A low growl emanating from deep in his gut preceded Mike as he flew up the stairs with Micky and Peter trailing behind him. Bursting through the bedroom door, he startled Davy from his drug-induced sleep. Jerking him to his feet by his shirt collars, he dragged him across the room slamming him against the wall.  
   "Michael - please - _don't_!"  
   " _STAY THE HELL OUT OF THIS - **BOTH** OF YOU_!" He snarled.  
   Turning back to the object of his rage, he stepped closer till he was face to face with the terrified young man.  
   "You _THIEVING MOTHER FUCKER_! You _LOUSY **SON-OF-A-BITCH**_ \- where - **WHERE IS SHE**?"  
   ".. I-"  
   Unable to find words in his stark fear Davy simply stared at him, trembling and pale. His eyes struck wide with terror blinked as the sudden sweat forming on his forehead trickled downward to sting them.  
   " **ANSWER ME! WHERE IS MY GUITAR**?"  
   "B- _ben_ …” he sputtered finally.  
   "- You traded my guitar to that slimy _cock-sucker_ for your damn **_pills_** \- **DIDN'T YOU**!"  
   A strangled cry escaped Davy's throat as panic took over. Grasping him by the front of his shirt Mike drew back his fist, pure rage twisting his face. Squeezing his eyes shut against what he knew was about to come, Davy turned his head and waited for the devastating blow. Quivering behind the door Micky and Peter cringed against one another, unable to witness the carnage about to take place - helpless to stop it from happening.  
   In a flash Mike's hand shot forward with all the force he could muster, driving forward, fully intending to connect with Davy's frightened, pale face. At the last second, he veered to the right, his fist cracking through the wall in a cloud of dust, chunks of plasterboard raining down on the carpet. Davy sagged to the floor in a shuddering, whimpering mess, the bottle of pills falling from his shirt pocket as he collapsed in a trembling heap.  
   "Get the **_fuck_** out!"  
   " _Michael_ -"  
   " **I SAID GET OUTTA MY HOUSE**! Don't bother walking through my living room, go out the balcony door - **GET OUT NOW**!"  
   "M-my _shoes_.."  
   "They'll be _outside_ ," Mike said staunchly, "get out and take your _crap_ with you," he said, throwing the bottle of pills at him.  
   Without a word or a glance behind him, Davy struggled to his feet. On watery knees, he stepped out into the night, closing the door behind him. Brushing past his bandmates Mike rushed downstairs and gathering the youth’s jacket and shoes tossed them out the bay doors into the rain. As he closed and locked the door, Peter came down the steps, a heartbroken look on his face.  
   "Micky said he needs some time alone, he'll be down later to talk. If you don't need anything from me Michael, I'm going to go to bed."  
   Too angry to speak Mike dismissed him with a wave of his hand, staring out at the storm into the darkness, a thunderous black void that matched the one in his angry heart.  
   Up in his room Micky cried into Davy's pillow, hugging it against him for comfort. Picking up his phone, he punched in the number and waited, praying for an answer on the other end of the line. On the fourth ring his prayers were answered.  
   "Hello?"  
   "It's me, Micky. I _need_ you…”  
                                                                                      *****  
   " _Damn_!"  
   "What is it Paisano?"  
   "Davy is gone. Apparently, the whole meeting at the club about a job was a ruse to get the boys out of the house tonight; while they were gone, Davy stole Mike’s guitar and traded it for drugs. It's a one-of-a-kind twelve string Gretsch and he is very angry, _naturally_. He has thrown Davy out of the house and nobody knows where he is. I'm sorry Robbie, I **_have_** to go!"  
   "Of course, I understand! Paisano you've been _drinking_ , are you able to drive?"  
   "Amico I appreciate your concern, but with the news I've just received, believe me, I'm stone cold _sober_."  
   "The weather is rough, _please_ be careful."  
   "Farò il mio vecchio amico, I am needed _not_ invincible, I'll drive safely. I'll let you know when I arrive home."  
   "Grazie, I'll do the same."  
   As he left the restaurant, Tony called Davy's phone in hopes of locating his wayward charge. When nobody answered, he left him a message.  
   "Kiddo it's Tony, please - _don’t be afraid_ to call me back. I know what's happened Davy and I'm _not angry_ with you, I just want to know that you're all right. _**Please**_ , even a text message - _something_ \- I'm on my way home now, **please** let me hear from you il mio piccolo amore perduto - my little lost love."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Mike was sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee when Micky finally came downstairs. Wandering blindly into the kitchen he stared blankly at the Texan, a bleak expression on his normally bubbly features. Lost in a fog he had no words, thinking only of his little one and where he could be on this wretched stormy night.  
   "If you're gonna pick a fight about this, do it now while Peter is asleep," Mike said flatly, "he's upset _enough_ as it is."  
   "I didn't come down here to argue or fight Mike. I came to _talk_."  
   "Then have a seat Micky, I'll get us both some coffee."  
   Slumping into his usual chair Micky waited for his longtime friend to come back to the table. When he did, Micky spoke before he could lose his nerve.  
   "I'm not pissed at you. I _was_ , but I understand how you must be feeling right now man. I don't know that I wouldn't have done the _same thing_ in your place. That doesn't mean I'm not upset, I'm _**worried**_ about him - he's all messed up and alone, out in this _shitty_ weather - and he's got that bottle of pills with him, I'm so scared he's gonna do something .. **stupid**."  
   "Aww _hell_.. **THAT** would be on me. _I_ sent him out there with them."  
   "I don't know what to do Mike. I went over to Tony's to see if he was holed up over there under the awning or something.. the house is locked up tight and he isn't there. I looked around on the beach but it's deserted. I'm so _confused_. Deep down I know Davy is a great guy, but I don't feel like I _know_ him anymore."  
   "It's the pills Mick, Davy _IS_ a great guy, he'd give the shirt off his back for _anybody_ and -"  
   ".. What is it Mike?"  
   ".. And I just picked a _fucking guitar_ over our Tiny. I am **such** an asshole. We need to call Tony."  
   "Already did, he's on his way."  
   "Have you tried to call Davy's phone?"  
   "Repeatedly, he keeps hitting the piss off button."  
   "Maybe we should-"  
   His thought was interrupted by the shrill ringing of the house phone: it was Tony.  
   "Hello Mike, has anyone heard from Davy yet?"  
   "No man I'm afraid not. I suppose you're mad at me.."  
   "I'm upset Mike, but I'm not angry. You reacted to being hurt; it's quite _human_ of you."  
   "I think we should go out n look for Tiny."  
   "No! Stay _put_ , I'm almost there and we'll make a decision together when I get there. He isn't likely to respond on a positive note if he sees _you_ right now, let's just sit tight. I should be there in twenty minutes."  
   "Okay man, you're the guardian. We'll be waiting for ya."  
   "Was that Davy?"  
   The two men turned to see a sleepy, red-eyed Peter standing across the room.  
   "I thought you were going to bed Cotton?"  
   "I couldn't sleep; I've been so worried about… _you know_ "  
   "It's okay babe, we're _all_ worried about Tiny. That was Tony on the phone; he should be here in just a bit."  
   "Are - are you two.. _okay_?"  
   "We're fine big Pete," Micky smiled weakly, "and we're gonna _**stay**_ that way."  
   "Groovy," Peter smiled, "I'll put on some tea."  
                                                                                      *****  
    Wet and shivering Davy had drifted down the beach in the storm, his rain-soaked jacket doing little to protect him from the chill he felt both inside and out. Tears mingled with the raindrops that ran down his cheeks, his entire body trembling - not from the cold - but from the stark realization that he had just lost everything that mattered to him.  
   He found himself wandering the streets of town with no recollection of having moved in that direction - not that it mattered - he had no place to go, no one to turn to. His phone had been ringing in his pocket, mostly Micky calling, and he'd repeatedly ignored the incoming intrusion with a swift jab of his thumb - he wanted no sympathy, no pleading to come back or reveal his location. Mike's decision had been quite clear: He wanted him gone.  
        And rightly so.  
   A familiar strip of buildings loomed ahead of him and he recognized them as the office complex where Paul kept his counseling practice. Spotting the wide awning above he propelled himself in its direction, his soggy sneakers squeaking on the sidewalk with every step. Crouched on the steps against the side of the building he leaned against the wall, finally out of the rain, burying his face in his hands.  
                                                                                      *****  
   In the gray of the pre-dawn morning and dark of the storm, the headlights of Tony's Maserati shone brightly as he pulled into the driveway of the boys’ pad. Wasting no time with the politeness of knocking he burst through the front door with a gust of wind and rain pushing him along. Shedding his storm-slicked jacket he headed straight to the melancholy group gathered at the kitchen table.  
   "Gentlemen, has anyone heard from Davy?"  
   "Hey Tonio, no. He won't answer _or_ call back."  
   "Man, I'm sorry," Mike began, "I shouldn't have.. I should’a -"  
   "Did you _hit_ him Mike?" Tony interrupted flatly.  
   " ... No! I wanted to, _almost_ did. There's a big hole in the wall upstairs.. "  
   "Did you hurt him in _any_ way?"  
   "No."  
   "Have you turned him in to the _police_?"  
   "Man it's **Tiny** \- I cain't _**do**_ that!"  
   "Then stop apologizing. What he has done is off the _charts_ wrong and inconceivable. I'm going to try Mike, hard as I can, to fix this. Any idea where the guitar is?"  
   " _Worthington_ has it," Micky sneered.  
   "I figured as much."  
   "There's fresh coffee and tea Tony," Peter offered, "a ' _good cuppa_ ' as Davy would say will warm you up."  
   "Thank you Peter. Coffee, _please_. We've got to find Davy first, then we'll see what we can do about your guitar."  
   "How are we supposed to find him if he won't even answer his phone?"  
   "I don't know amici; I've been wracking my brain all the way here."  
   "Simple," Peter said, setting the steaming mug in front of Tony, " _Nicky_."  
   "Whatta you mean Pete?"  
   "The only one that I personally believe Davy won't _blow off_ is Nicky. Have _**him**_ call Davy."  
   "Cotton that's _brilliant_!"  
   "I think you may have something there Peter! I'm going to call Nicky now."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Miles away cold and alone Davy contemplated his few options, huddled under the scant shelter of the vinyl canopy above. He had obviously ruined his new life here in California with Micky and the guys, his budding music career going down the toilet with it. Even if Tony were willing to continue as his guardian, he could not possibly live next door to the place that had once been his haven, to say nothing of the people who would certainly continue to dwell inside. He could return to England but it wasn't what he wanted - not as a ward of the Shire at any rate - and that left little else. He could start over somewhere - _anywhere_ \- on his own, but he'd have to get some money somehow and that presented a problem: Tony had cut off all access to his bank account and taken away his charge cards.  
   Frustrated and chilled he wiped away fresh tears, jamming his cold hands into the pockets of his thin coat and - what was this?  
           (Oh _shit ._.. )  
   He pulled the bottle from his pocket eyeing it like the prize from a cracker-jack box, the wheels in his mind turning quickly as to what he could accomplish with his find - surely enough to stop even the _stoutest_ of men dead in their tracks - and it hit him hard, this revelation. Everything he'd done that had hurt those he loved washed through his thoughts in a painful series of images, and pocketing the bottle Davy found his resolve: He knew what he had to do - how to put an end to the trouble and grief he'd brought to so many lives. Pulling out his cell phone, he made the call to make all the final arrangements - putting everyone out of their misery - _himself_ included.  
                                                                                      *****  
   "Well, what'd he say?"  
   "I explained everything to him Mike," Tony said, rejoining them at the table, "he is calling him _and_ messaging him as we speak."  
   " ... _everything_?"  
   "Relax my friend. He is upset but not _angry_ with anyone. All we can do for the moment is wait to hear from Nicky; if he doesn't get anywhere with him, we're going to take action ourselves at first light."  
   "You mean go look for him?"  
   "Yes amici, I see no alternative. He has enough medication on him to overdose and I'm not sure of his emotional state right now. We'll make decisions about who-"  
   Interrupted by his cell phone, Tony immediately answered Nicky's call.  
   "Ciao il mio Nicky, qualsiasi parola? _Meraviglioso_! What did he say?"  
   Like small children surrounding a storyteller, the boys closed in on Tony in a semi-circle, bright-eyed and eager to hear of their young mate's circumstances.  
   " _Grazie_ my Nicholas, I'll call you afterwards. I love you too. _Ciao_."  
   "Well? Did he talk to Tiny?"  
   "He did; Peter you were absolutely _brilliant_ to think of Nicky! They spoke briefly of what took place - from the theft to the confrontation here. While Davy would not disclose his location he asked Nicky to assure everyone that he _is safe_ , and that he promises that we _will_ hear from him today - most likely late this morning."  
   "Oh! Thank goodness!"  
   "Good," Mike nodded, "that's _real_ good."  
   The pure comfort that washed over Micky was absolutely palpable as his entire frame visibly relaxed, a breathy gush of air escaping his lungs in a heartfelt sigh of relief.  
   "He's okay!" he said, barely above a whisper, "My little one is _okay_."  
   Squeezing Micky's shoulder lightly, Tony spoke up.  
   "I cannot speak for anyone but myself but I can _assume_ everyone is as exhausted as I am. I think the best thing we can all do is get a little rest, it’s not quite five-thirty, if we all lay down now we can be awake and waiting for Davy by say _ten o'clock_?"  
   "What if we _miss_ him? I don't know if I'll _hear_ an alarm clock!"  
   " _ **I WILL**_ amici. If it's alright with you Mike, I'd like to camp out on your couch for a few hours."  
   "Fine by me. I'll set my alarm too; we'll be up in time Mick."  
   "I'll set one too Micky," Peter smiled.  
   " ... well, okay - but I'm sleeping **_down here_** on the other couch - _just in case_."  
   "Suit yourself, but we need to get to bed."


	20. Chapter 20

   At ten o'clock Tony was in the kitchen pouring coffee into four large mugs when the boys came stumbling half-blind and sleep-fogged into the small nook. Shuffling into their usual seats, with Peter still attached to Mike's shoulder; they happily accepted the steaming cups as Tony put on another pot.  
   "Any word from Davy?"  
   "No Micky, nothing yet. I've been awake for half an hour, but he did say _late_ morning, let's just wake up and deal with things as they come."  
   "Do you think he's gonna call - or come to the _house_?"  
   "The way I acted Cotton I seriously doubt he'll _show up_ here, I'm sorry fellas."  
   "Well he didn't say one way or the other," Tony tried to reassure, "but all we can do is wait and see."  
   "I'm so scared I'm never gonna _see_ him again."  
   "Amici, don't do this to yourself. Tutto ciò che è destinato a essere _sarà_ , no?"  
   "I hate it when y'all do that!"  
   "I'm sorry Mike," Tony chuckled "I say that what's meant to be will be."  
   "I know you're right, but.. Tone he is **_everything_** to me."  
   "To me as well, I-"  
   "There's a car in the driveway," Peter interrupted.  
   "Let **_me_** get the door!" Tony insisted, as everyone flew from their seats. "If it _is_ Davy let's **not** frighten him away!"  
   Hanging back in anxious apprehension, the boys clung together in a huddle near the table as Tony moved to answer the door. Uneasy with his own case of nerves, Tony braced himself as he reached for the knob and swung the door open.  
   "Good morning."  
   " _Paul_! Good morning! Please, come in."  
   "Ah good, all of you are together. I need to speak to everyone if I might."  
   "It's peculiar but _impeccable_ timing that you should come by, we're in a bit of a crisis situation this morning," Tony offered as they walked into the kitchen.  
   "Not so peculiar really, Davy called me _very early_ this morning."  
   "He _did_?"  
   " _Really!_ "  
   "What did he say?"  
   "Ahh now, you know I'm not at liberty to divulge any of that information. What I have been asked to do however is to ask _your_ permission Mike, for Davy to come in and speak to everyone, _just_ for a bit. I'll be with him to act as a buffer and in a professional manner."  
   "I reckon that'd be alright, is he with you now?"  
   "Yes, he's sitting in my car. I'll go and bring him in, but _**please,**_ no fighting. This is something he has asked for and he is hoping can be a peaceful process."  
   "I assure you Paul, there will be _no_ drama or violence. Right boys?"  
   "No, we'll be mellow!"  
   "Of course not!"  
   "Tell Tiny it's gonna be fine."  
   "Okay, we'll be right with you."  
   "Why don't we move this to the living room. " Tony suggested, "there's more seating and it's a little more comfortable."  
   Tony, Micky and Peter situated themselves on the larger of the two sofas while Mike - ever distant and always slightly uptight - sat in the recliner between the two, leaving the smaller sofa for Paul and Davy. After a brief knock on the door, the two stepped inside.  
       You could have cut through the atmosphere with a butter knife.  
   "Hey kiddo, it's so _good_ to see you."  
   "I've been _so worried_ about you Davy!"  
   "Little One! I'm **_so happy_** that you're alright!"  
   Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Mike looked up at Paul.  
   "Why don't y'all have a seat there," he said in a small voice, much unlike himself.  
   "I .. thank you Mike fer letting me come in. I won't keep you guys too long," Davy stammered as he sat on the love seat beside Paul.  
   "Before Davy get's into what he has to say,' Paul interjected, "I want everyone to understand that everything that's taken place or is about to was _his_ decision alone."  
   Nodding briefly and clearly very nervous, Davy began again.  
   "Petah, I want to tell you that I'm sorry. I have done so much that's hurt or frightened you, not thinking of _anyone_ but myself. You've always stood up fer me, even when I least deserved it. You've been the _best friend_ a guy could ahsk for. I've said such hateful things and cussed at you, and you've nevah been anything but kind to me. I .. I stole your radio, and traded it to Ben fer pills. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, though I know I don't deserve it. I'm so sorry."  
   "I love you Davy," Peter said through his tears, "you're like a kid brother to me. Of course I forgive you."  
   "Thank you Petah, so very much."  
   Turning his attention to Micky, Davy struggled to maintain his composure as he looked into the eyes of his true love.  
   "Micky luv, I've taken advantage of you in so many ways. I've treated you like crap, talked to you with such a mean heart - even ahsked you to lie fer me - to let me get away with things. I've put you in a position to be torn between me and yer best friend; not a very good boyfriend I've been. Knowing how much you wanted to see me get bettah I kept secretly using, worried only bout the craving n 'ow to feed it. You've been the greatest thing that's _evah_ come into my life. I'm so sorry fer treating you like you'd always be there, like _I_ was the important one.. Please Micky, if you can find it in yer heart, please forgive me."  
   "Dave, I love you. Sometimes it isn't easy to do, but _you_ are the best thing that ever happened to **me**. Whatever happens, I'm _always_ gonna love you and be here for you. I forgive you my little one."  
   Tears were flowing freely down the boyish face as Davy nodded in his direction, the faintest sad smile on his lips. Wiping his eyes with his coat sleeve, he turned to Tony.  
   "Tony, you've changed my life in so many wonderful ways and given me a brand new stahrt. You've been so patient and kind, trying to understand me and give me a chance when others wanted to throw in the towel. Picked up and moved hundreds of miles from your home so I could be with Nicky _and_ Micky. Loved me when I wasn't very lovable. I've not appreciated you very much, at least not with my actions. I've lied to your face, disobeyed you, and deceived you. Yet yer _still 'ere_. I love you and I hope you won't give up on me, but if you do, I know it's me own fault. I'm sorry Tony, and I pray you can forgive me too."  
   "Piccola mia perso, _il mio amore_! Forgiveness isn't even a _**question**_ in my mind! I love you Davy, and I'm **not** quitting on you. I know your heart mi amore - you are _so good_ \- you have merely gone astray. Famiglia per sempre, together we will **always** be."  
   With only Mike remaining the tension in the room was palpable. The air had become thick and heavy, seeming as if the oxygen in it had simply vanished.  
        Everyone held their breath.  
   Rising from the sofa Davy forced his legs to move, coming to stand before Mike, his entire body trembling in fear and reverence. Stopping a foot in front of the recliner he dropped to his knees, and taking a breath, he spoke in low tones.  
   "Mike, I won't _blame_ you if you don't want to hear from me, but I'd like to _say_ something to you if it's alright."  
   Unable to bring himself to speak, Mike nodded his assent, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly to hide his own nervousness.  
   "Thank you. There is _so much_ I wanna say to you - I don't even know where to stahrt. You have been to me the older brother, stern and full of guidance; you've been a mentor - 'elping me develop my musical abilities and song writing skills - a _great_ friend, giving me sound advice and a good scolding when I've needed it. You've given me a good, safe and loving home - your home - to live in … Accepting me with open arms with my differences and quirks, with a friendly smile. Mike I've disrespected you so many times, talked to you like you were _nobody_. I've taken advantage of your generosity and stolen from you - and yet here I am in **_your 'ouse_** , given the opportunity to speak my peace. I don't even have it in me to ahsk your forgiveness Mike, and I don't expect any special treatment from you, but I do want you to know how _terrible_ I feel inside for the way I've done you. I **_am_** sorry.. I know that doesn't mean much, I've said it so many times. I have something for you - sort of peace offering - in the car. May I get it and bring it inside?"  
   Again unable to find his tongue, Mike nodded mutely.  
   Out the door in a flash Davy came back with a large black plastic bag in his hands, and kneeling again before the man of the house he handed him the package with his head down, humility and respect in his posture. Curious, the others stood, crowding around to get a glimpse at the contents of the bag. Slowly and with reluctance Mike pulled the string securing the top of the bag and opened it, unaware that he was holding his breath. Hesitantly he peered inside, his head immediately snapping up to meet Davy's hopeful eyes.  
   Gingerly he reached into the depths of the bag and with careful hands drew out the gift, drawing delighted gasps from the group around him. Clutching it against him and cradling it like a baby, he held his treasured guitar - his Blond Beauty - grinning from ear to ear.  
   " _Oh my God_!" Peter exclaimed.  
   "Way to go _Davy_!"  
   "Kiddo I'm impressed! But _how_?"  
   "He wanted desperately to make things right," Paul spoke up, "and he still had most of the pills he traded it for. He asked me to help him try to get it back so we went to Worthington's and he still had it. He wouldn't trade back however - he wanted to make black market price for it. So we worked something out and he gave us the guitar."  
   " **GAVE** it to us?" Davy gaped. "You gave him **_five hundred dollars_**!"  
   "You did **WHAT**?!" Mike finally spoke.  
   "He didn't want to give the pills back, so that someone else didn't end up with them." Davy said, "So he paid the price Ben wanted to get fer it on the black mahrket! I _promised_ 'im I'm gonna pay it back."  
   "I cain't thank you _enough_ for this.. _**neither**_ of you. I'm just - I dunno what to say."  
   "How about _welcome home_?" Micky said softly.  
   "Actually, I came to apologize to everyone," Davy said, coming to his feet, "but I also came to say goodbye."  
   "What?! _Why_?"  
   "Little one, _no_ \- don't _ **leave**_!"  
   "Davy, kiddo I don't understand?"  
   "Look, whatevah my future _here_ happens to be is something we can figure out laytah. I.. I have something I _hafta_ take care of first."  
   "Yes," Paul said, "and I'm afraid we're about out of time Davy. Maybe another ten minutes and we'll have to get going. Gentlemen, I want to let you know that Davy has requested that I place him inpatient for the duration of his treatment - _his_ idea - and I have agreed that it is _definitely_ necessary. He'll be leaving with me from here to live at our facility in L.A. for two to six months."  
   "Oh my God. Davy I'm _proud_ of you, but - _**six months**_?!"  
   "Micky I cahn't _do_ this here. I'm gonna miss all of you, but **_I need 'elp_**. I want this to stop."  
   "Kiddo it's a wise decision, and a _difficult_ one - I'm sure. I'm very proud of you Davy, it took a _lot_ of courage to step up and ask for help."  
   "Can we come and see him?"  
   "I'm afraid not - not at _first_. The first two weeks - no _visitors_ \- _no_ phone calls. After that it depends a lot on Davy, his behavior and his effort to work the program."  
   "I'll work hard, I _promise_. I'm allowed to write and get lettahs anytime though."  
   "I'll write you as soon as you leave - and _every day_ after that babe."  
   "With your permission Mike, Davy needs to gather a few things from his room - clothing and a few personal items. Unless you'd rather get them yourself or accompany him upstairs."  
   "That's fine," he mumbled, looking at the floor, "he can get whatever he needs."  
   "Thank you Mike, I won't be but a few minutes."  
   "I'll come with you, if you don't mind."  
   "I'd like that Micky."  
   "How long do you expect his treatment to take - based on what you know - do you think he'll be in for the _whole six months_?"  
   "Truthfully Tony I do not. He is eager to beat this thing and our program is rigid and thorough. If I had to estimate, I would say between two and three months."  
   "Do you need anything from _me_?"  
   "I'll need your signature on a few forms, but that is _something_ we can manage on Monday morning. You know when he called me this morning, just before five, I knew something was wrong - but I never would have guessed it was **_this_**. He really had me fooled; I feel that I've failed him."  
   "Don't beat yourself up Paul; he had everyone fooled, maybe even _himself_."  
                                                                                      *****  
    Upstairs Micky sat on the bed watching with mixed emotions as Davy packed a week's worth of clothes and toiletries into his duffel bag.  
   "Dave?"  
   "Yes?"  
   "Are you gonna .. _Please_ come home when you finish your treatment."  
   "I'd like to. I suppose that's not _my decision_ though, is it? Worse case scenario, I'll be living next door, and we can still be togethah. That is - well - if you'll still ' _ave_ me."  
   "I love you Davy, I'm _not_ letting you go."  
   "I don't see how you _can_ , but I love you too."  
   "Davy," Paul called up the stairs, "It's about time to go."  
   "C'mon little one, I'll walk you out."  
  
   Down in the driveway Davy stood beside Paul's car wrapped tightly in Micky's arms, inhaling his lover's scent to carry with him in his memory for the next two weeks. Tony and Peter stood close by saying their good-byes and wishing him well on his journey.  
   "Here Davy, I want you to take this with you, he'll keep you safe while you're up there by yourself, ya know - without us."  
   " _Petah_! Not yer **_huggy_ ** bear!"  
   "It's okay; I'll be alright without him for a while if I know he's with you. Please take him with you."  
   "Thanks Pete, I'll take _good_ care of 'im."  
   "You're missing the point: _He'll_ take good care of _you_."  
   Smiling, Davy hugged his simple friend, eternally grateful for his lighthearted wisdom.  
   "I know it seems like forever, but trust me kiddo, two weeks will pass by before you know it and we'll be up there to see you. Stay busy and stick to the program, it will help to pass the time."  
   "I'll miss you all _so much_."  
   "Davy, we really need to get going, we have a long drive ahead of us and they're expecting you to check in by two."  
   "Yessir, coming."  
   "You _**better**_ behave up there and do whatever is part of your program little one - I'm gonna kick your **butt** if I don't get to _see_ you in two weeks! God Davy I _miss you already_!"  
   "I'll do me best Micky, I _mean_ it. I love you."  
   "I love you too, and I'll write you _every_ day."  
   "Davy?"  
   "Yessir, coming now Paul."  
   Placing his duffel in the back seat, he turned once more to the trio, offering a tired smile. With all the courage he could muster he spun around, opened the passenger front door, and climbed into the car. As Paul began to back out of the drive, the front door of the house flew open with a bang.  
   " **TINY** ," Mike yelled, running down the gravel drive, " _DAVY - **WAIT**_!"  
   Jamming on the brakes Paul stopped the car. Davy was out the door and on his feet in a flash, falling into the waiting arms of his teary-eyed friend. For a moment, they only stood, holding each other and rocking back and forth.  
   "You _listen_ to me! You go and do whatcha gotta do up'ere in that hospital ya _hear_ me! **_Whatever it is_** ya hafta do - so you can getcher tiny ass back **home** to us. I _love_ you Davy, and I **do** forgive you. Just get better, you hear me."  
   "I _will_ Mike, thank you. I love you too."  
   "Go on now," he sniffled, "you don't wanna be late."  
   "Right. I'll see you guys soon.. _I love yo_ u."  
   "See you soon kiddo!"  
   "Good luck Davy!"  
   "I love you little one!"  
   "Be good Tiny."  
   Davy climbed back into the car and closed the door. The four men stood in the driveway together waving him goodbye until he was out of sight. Turning to go inside, Mike noticed that Micky stood in place, his body quivering with unshed tears.  
   "Hey shotgun, you comin'?"  
   "Yaa, in a minute Mike. Thanks man, that was _really_ groovy - what you did with Davy."  
   "Don't thank me Micky, I meant it. I cain't b'lieve I almost **lost** our Tiny over a _dadblamed_ guitar. Can you believe that kid? Goin up against _Worthington_ to get it back!”  
   "Yaa, he's pretty special alright."  
   "Mick," Mike said, slinging a brotherly arm around his shoulder, "he's comin back, and _soon_. Come on inside man, get some breakfast. Besides, dontcha have a _letter_ to write?"  
   "Yes, yes I do," he smiled. "Anyway Davy wouldn't want me to mope around like this. Let's go."


	21. Chapter 21

   Tuesday morning's mail brought a letter from Davy and a huge smile to Micky's face as he yelped loudly running up the stairs with his prize. Locked in their bedroom he curled up with Davy's pillow and read the note twice before tucking it into his night table drawer.

  
                                              Dear Micky,  
                                          Wow do I miss you already! This place is wild - it's not bad or anything,  
                                          but is very strict and comes with a tightly run schedule. I only have an  
                                          hour each day of 'free time' to write lettahs, clean my room or finish up any  
                                          assignments that I have, but I'll do my best to write every day. I'm sorry to  
                                          say that I got a demerit already, I got in a fight with this jerk and even  
                                          though he started it, we both got in trouble. They have me back on Suboxone  
                                          but the withdrawals are hell, I spent the first night in the bathroom puking  
                                          my guts up. The food is okay and I can hardly wait to see you all. Gotta go for  
                                          now. Tell everyone I said hello. I love you.  
                                                                                                                   Yours Forever ~  
                                                                                                                                     Davy

  "Got your scrappy little ass in trouble _already_ ," he said, smiling up at the ceiling.  
   His energy level fully restored he bounced out of bed and headed down to update everyone on their miscreant Monkee, sliding down the banister as opposed to taking the stairs.  
   "So," Mike said as he landed at the bottom, "are ya gonna tell us what he said?"  
   He misses us and says hello, he said it's _REALLY_ strict up there and the food is so-so. He threw up all night Saturday from the withdrawals and he got in a fight.. They gave him demerits or whatever."  
   "He'd best be coolin' that temper or they _may_ not let him have visitors. When you write him next, tell him we say hello."  
   "I will.. do ya think they'd really _do_ that?"  
   "They don't take kindly to trouble-makin Micky and they getcha to _stop_ in whatever way they can. Even loss of privileges."  
   " ... _Shit_."  
   "Morning boys," Tony greeted as he came in, "need to have a family meeting, _**now**_."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Leaving the infirmary Davy was instructed to go straight to Paul's office, a directive that left him feeling worse than the injuries he'd sustained in his second fight in four days. His now-nervous stomach was doing flips, adding to the discomfort he'd been feeling for days as a result of being weaned (and painfully so) from the opiates he'd become so used to taking. Taking a deep breath (and praying he wasn't in deep shit) he rapped on Paul's office door and waited for the scolding he was certain was coming.  
   "Ahh Davy," Paul said as he opened the door, "come on in kiddo, we need to _talk_."  
   "Am I in trouble?" he asked before fully seated.  
   "I'm not sure, but based on the reports I've read you were not the aggressor in either of the altercations you were involved in. Why don't _you_ tell me what happened."  
   "Well, the first time we were in the orientation group and I 'ad me turn introducing myself n wot, said why I'm 'ere n a bit about my life ya see. Apparently this guy 'as a problem with my.. _lifestyle_ choice. Stahrts making queer jokes n such and well I ignored 'im fer the most part but it went on fer twenty minutes! I turned round n told 'im to bugger orf n he decked me, so I _clocked_ 'im one."  
   "I see. What happened today?"  
   "Same fella - this _Myron_ whatevah - well we've both been assigned to the same Tuesday group session and Miss Tracy called me up to talk about my addiction. As I walked pahst 'im he sticks a foot out and trips me - flat on my face I went! I got to my feet and she called me on it - saw I was ready to crack 'is skull - so I backed orf n turned to continue to the front of the class. Myron gets up n says 'Stupid Limey Faggot' - and _jumps_ me from behind! We rolled around on the floor fer a minit - me gettin the _shit_ pounded outta me - and by the time I stahrted to get my bearings security came in and broke it up."  
   "That's pretty much the way staff wrote up these incidents. Considering that Mr. Felsnik has attacked you twice with no provocation, staff and I have agreed to remove the two demerits from your record Davy. Aside from these two events you've been a model patient."  
   "Thanks, I'm trying."  
   "Now, on to the real business."  
   " _Uh-oh_."  
   "How are you sleeping?"  
   "Pretty good considering it's a strange place. _Why_?"  
   "You sure about that? Wouldn't keep anything from me would you?"  
   " _No Sir_! That is **NOT** gonna get me outta here!"  
   "Okay, I believe you. I want you to watch a video Davy; it's a surveillance tape of your room."  
   "Yer _video taping_ me?"  
   "New clients with severe addictions are on suicide watch for the first week or two, but what we caught on camera is.. well, a _bit_ of a concern. Take a look."  
   Opening the double panels of the armoire behind him, Paul revealed a small TV set and a VCR. Working quickly he set the tape in motion, Davy sitting enthralled as he watched himself sleeping on the screen. At first it was fairly benign: a young man asleep peacefully in his bed. Then suddenly Davy was thrashing and moaning, pleading for an invisible assailant to ' _please stop_ '. Pale and shaken by what he saw Davy was unable to tear himself away from the living nightmare before him. He watched himself double over protectively in the bed, calling out loudly ' _Please Ben, no more_!' As the video fizzled into a snowy screen he sat trembling, his eyes suddenly fascinated with the carpet beneath his feet, unable to look up at Paul.  
   "I take it you understand what that's all about," Paul said softly. "Take a moment to compose yourself Davy, then I'd like for you to tell me what you can."  
                                                                                      *****  
   "Is everything okay?"  
   "It's about _Davy_ \- isn't it!"  
   "Is Tiny alright?"  
   "Yes and no. I got a call from Paul a few minutes ago, in spite of the visitation policy, he wants us to come up tomorrow for a family session. They monitor most of the incoming patients for suicide with in-room video cameras, and they picked up on some nightmares that Davy's been having since he got there. Paul confronted him with the video and got a very .. _heartbreaking_ revelation."  
   "He didn't try to _hurt_ himself did he?"  
   "No, nothing like that. We need to head up as soon as possible, he wants us up there at eight a.m. - I've already made arrangements for a hotel."  
   "For corn _sakes_ man what in tarnation is _happening_ to Tiny?!"  
   "Apparently Worthington was getting his jollies with him - _abusing_ him in a way - in trade for pills when Davy stopped stealing for him. He wants to tell us what happened, but he only wants to do it once, so we're all going up for a session or two, with Paul there for professional support. Start packing, we leave in an hour."  
   "What did he do to him?"  
   "Amici, everything I know I've _just_ told you. I understand that you're very upset, but I _have_ no more information. To go a step further, this is going to be terribly painful and difficult for Davy to talk about, so everyone - and I mean _everyone_ \- needs to keep it together. He needs our strength and support _now_ more than ever. We can all come unglued back at the hotel, but in front of Davy, _strength and love_."  
   "Poor Davy!" Peter breathed.  
   "C'mon Peter, let’s go pack."  
   "Coming Michael."  
   " ... Tonio?" Micky ventured when they were alone.  
   "Yes Micky?"  
   "He.. he didn't - abuse him like - _sexually_.. did he?"  
   "I wish I could assure you he didn't, but I know nothing more than I've said to you, _truly_. I'm sorry amici."  
   "Thanks Tone, I'm gonna go pack."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Wednesday morning Davy awoke early, having slept little, and decided to give it up for the night. Nervous about the family session scheduled for eight o'clock he had very little appetite but forced himself to eat some breakfast - house rules would restrict him from his meds if he didn't - and took a shower. At seven-fifteen, he arrived at Paul's office for their agreed-upon pre-session meeting.  
   "Morning kiddo, was starting to think I was gonna have to send out the MP's to come get you," he chuckled.  
   "Morning. M'sorry I'm late, I got tagged for a random room sweep."  
   "I assume since I haven't gotten any urgent messages that they didn't find anything they shouldn't have."  
   "No sir, no drugs, contraband, unswallowed meds, weapons or anything else on the list. I am NOT getting in trouble - goin 'ome a soon as I'm recovered."  
   "Good man, I didn't expect they'd find anything on you Davy; you can sit down you know."  
   "Oh .. right. Sorry."  
   "Nervous?"  
   "You have no idea."  
   "Butterflies in the stomach eh?"  
   "I dunno, these feel more like bats.. _Ostriches_ \- lil bit bigger at least," he managed with a wavery grin.  
   "Let's see your journal kiddo - you did complete the assignment I gave you right?"  
   "Yessir, though it's got a lot of scribbling and eraser marks on it."  
   "Not a surprise, it's tough to put these things on paper sometimes. Let's go over as much as we can before the session, so you'll be more at ease and able to talk about things. Remember Davy, whatever we don't cover today can be dealt with over the next few days, there is no time constraint, no hurry. Okay?"  
   "Yaa, alright."  
                                                                                      *****  
   At precisely eight a.m. Tony, Micky and the boys knocked on the door to Paul's office at the Los Angeles Community Hospital. Tense and jittery, Davy jumped in his seat, much less than even _he_ expected from himself.  
   "You ready big guy?"  
   Pale and unable to form words, Davy simply nodded, his hands gripping the arms of the wingback chair so tightly his knuckles all but disappeared in the whiteness of his skin.  
   "Good morning gentlemen, punctual as always. Won't you come in and have a seat?"  
   First through the door it was Micky's intention to rush to Davy, sweeping him into an emotional and passionate embrace. One look at his tense posture and the strain on his face stalled him in his tracks however, and heeding Tony's words in the elevator, he slowed his pace and approached his anxious young lover with cautious movement.  
   "Hey little one," he spoke softly, "I've missed you _so_ much."  
   " _M-Micky_! I miss you too, can I .. are we allowed to _hug_ Paul?"  
   "Of course Davy," he laughed, "You're in _treatment_ , not jail. Family sessions allow for a little more contact than visits, by all means, hug your loved-ones!”  
   "C'mere baby," Micky smiled, relieved to be able to hold his love.  
   "Don't hog him Micky; you have a line behind you in case you didn't know!"  
   "All right Tony, jeez," he grinned.  
   "Hey kiddo, we miss you back at the home front," Tony said embracing his charge.  
   "Hey Tony, you look good."  
   "My turn, y'all cain't keep Tiny all to yourselves."  
   "Mike, it's good to see you!" Davy said, stretching to hug the tall Texan.  
   "Good to see you too, you're keeping them on their toes aren't ya?"  
   "Yaa well it's _kinda_ mutual," he smiled broadly.  
   Hanging back with an easy smile, Peter patiently waited his turn to hug his little friend. His smile spread from ear to ear when Davy turned to him with open arms  
   " _Petah_! C'mere big guy n gimme a hug - _gosh_ I've missed you! "  
   "I brought you some chocolate Davy," he said as they hugged, "I miss you too!"  
   "If you'll all take a seat I'd like to get started, there's coffee, bottled water and coke over there if anyone wants it.”  
   "Thank you Paul, that’s very kind of y-"  
   Tony was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door, which Paul promptly answered.  
   "Come on in, we were just getting seated.”  
   "I'm sorry I'm late, I had a hard time getting a taxi."  
   " _ **Nicky**_!" Davy cried, rushing to his brother's side, "I 'ad _no idea_ you were coming!"  
   "Aw come here bubba, do you think I'd be a no-show when you _need_ me little bro? "  
   "God it's good to see you!"  
   "It's great seeing you too Davy, and you look better - I'm so _proud_ of you!”  
   "D'yer want some coffee or something? "  
   "Coffee sounds great!"  
   "Wonderful to have you here mi amore, I'm glad you could come. Any issues with you leaving school?"  
   "No sir, I was granted a FLA, it won't be held against me. "  
   "Is everyone situated?" Paul asked from behind his desk.  
   Silent nods and a heavy tension suddenly thickened the air, as the happy reunion became the purposeful meeting it was intended to be.  
   "Okay first off, Davy has agreed to allow me to record these sessions purely for clinical purposes; does anyone object to being audio-taped? _No_? Good."  
   Placing his recorder on the desk, he punched the appropriate buttons to set the tape in motion.  
   "David Jones family session one. Okay, some ground rules: Be _courteous_ , let whoever has the floor finish what they have to say - there will be time to speak for everyone. Heckling and bullying are **not** allowed. If anyone needs a break at any time, speak up. Indoor voices please and remember why we're all here. Davy and I spoke briefly beforehand and he has decided that as opposed to a question and answer session he would like to tell his story _to_ you. Patience is key and no one should be afraid to let their emotions show. Davy, are you _ready_ kiddo?"  
   "Yes.. I know you guys have a _vague_ idea of what I'm going to tell you, but the details are _not_ pleasant and.. well this is gonna _**fucking suck**_ , straight up. So _please_ , bear with me."  
   He paused here, gathering himself together under the guise of drinking water, his hands trembling as he lifted the bottle to his lips.  
   "You all know that I'd been.. _stealing_ things - from around the house - trading what I could to Rocket fer pain pills. He wasn't very fair about it, price wise, but I 'ad no money so I didn't see much choice. Ahftah the first few times it got easier, but he stahrted ahsking fer specific things - n I felt _so_ guilty.. Told 'im I was on restrictions that prevented me from getting anything and I offered to do some work; ‘is ’ouse is _filthy_. Mow the yard, cleaning and such. He said okay and watched my ev'ry move with this _weird_ expression - I thought it was just because 'e was high - I was _**way off**_."  
   "You're doing great Davy, how are you holding up?”  
   "M'alright Paul, the ' _ard_ part is coming next."  
   "Need a minute?"  
   "No sir, not yet. Anyway, Ben wanted me to clean off the back patio, it was covered in leaves n brush - some dried branches and wot - I.. he …”  
   "Take your time kiddo and don't be afraid, it's just us."  
   "Thanks Tony, it's just - I'm so.. _ashamed_."  
   "Tiny, we've all got stuff that's not easy to say, stuff we're embarrassed by; but we're _family_. If it'd make you feel better about saying whatever it is that's got you tongue-tied, I would _smash ol Beauty to bits_ right here and now. Nothing - **NOTHING** is more important than supporting the ones you love."  
   "I love you too Mike," Davy smiled into his lap, "thanks mate."  
   Shifting in his seat Davy leaned forward, resting his forearms on the front of the massive oak desk, his face out of everyone's sight but Paul's.  
   "I was bagging the brush into a big black trash bag - for a reason I didn't get in the beginning, Ben always told me to wear my red swim trunks - no shirt or shoes.. Anyway, I was bent ovah shoving this crap in the bag and 'e .. _hit_ me."  
   "Oh my _god_ ," Micky breathed.  
   "Easy amici," Tony whispered.  
   "He had picked up a willow switch orf the ground," Davy continued, "and swung it with all he could, crackin’ me square on the backside. I stood up n spun round _gaping_ at 'im - and he looked totally psyched, and.. _strangely amused_."  
   "Oh Bubba!" Nicky said through his tears, "I’m _so_ sorry!  
   "I said ' _what the fuck Ben_!' He smiled and said 'here, that was fucking _AWESOME,_ you deserve a treat' - and handed me two hydro tens. I was s-so 'ard-up fer a high I d-didn't say anothah _word_."  
   "I'm calling a fifteen minute break," Paul interrupted, "Davy will you come with me please?"  
   " ... Yessir."  
   "You men feel free to stretch your legs and help yourself to more drinks. We'll just be a moment."  
   Out in the hallway Davy looked up at Paul with concern in his already troubled eyes.  
   "Did I do something wrong?"  
   "No Davy not at all. I thought they needed a few minutes to absorb what they have heard, and I want to give you another _very_ mild sedative - just something to settle your nerves - I can see your heartbeat hammering away in your neck. Follow me."

   "You _wait_ till I see that _son-of-a_ -"  
   "Micky, the tape is still running,” Tony warned.  
   "Ya need to get it together shotgun, I gotta feeling this is just the _tip_ of the bull's horn."  
   "Do you need to step out of this mi amici?"  
   "No _way_ am I leaving! This is killing me but if it's that hard for me what was it like for Davy? I'll be fine I was just blowing steam. He needs **_all_** of us."  
   "Atta boy Micky!" Peter chimed in.  
   "When you _do_ come across Worthington," Mike whispered conspiratorially, "you damn well _better_ make sure I'm with you!"  
   "I can handle him!" He whispered back.  
   "I _know_ that, but you ain't having _all_ the fun to yourself!"  
   "Nicky what is that pill you're taking?" Tony asked.  
   "It's a Benadryl papi, I need to calm down."  
   " **Nicky**!"  
   "Please don't scold Tony, it's not an opiate nor is it habit-forming - my _guidance counselor_ suggested it!"  
   "I wasn't my love, I thought it was _brilliant_! Perhaps you have one for Micky?"  
   "Absolutely," he grinned, "and anyone else who wants one."  
   "Why do you think Paul took Davy out of the room?" Peter wondered.  
   "He was pretty uptight shotgun; I'd wager he wanted to give him some space."  
   As if the simple mention of his name were a magical key, Paul materialized at that moment with a somber Davy at his side.  
   "Okay, Davy has taken a breather and is ready to continue. Unless of course anyone else is not prepared to move forward."  
   Looking from one to the other nobody spoke up, so taking his seat (and slightly glassy-eyed) Davy ventured on.  
   "Ben knew what my tolerance was, and just 'ow many milligrams it took to level me orf. He told me to take a break n sit with 'im.. I should've _known_ something was up. I drank a beer and was stahrting to feel good when he began questioning me. About.. my _sex_ life."  
   Micky visibly paled at his words, his worst fears racing around in his brain faster than he could register them as conscious thoughts. To his credit, he gave no other outward indication that on the inside he was _dying_.  
   "He wanted to know if we did _certain_ things; and Micky I **_swear_** to you,” he said passionately, turning to take his hands, “I didn’t tell him _anything_! Our private time is _too sacred_ to me to share with the likes of Ben Worthington."  
   "I love you little one, and I believe you. _Thank_ you."  
   "When I wouldn't give details," Davy went on, "he shifted tracks.. ahsked if I'd evah played any S&M or _bondage_ games. I said no, I wasn't really into that stuff. He'd been walking towards me and was standing above me now.. I was leaning back on the chaise, practically sinking into it at this point. He said 'you wanna keep getting your fix? You'll learn how to get into it, _real_ quick'. He still 'ad the willow switch, tracing it along me stomach. I was terrified and couldn't move - could barely _breathe_. I saw it coming and was 'elpless to stop it. He raised his arm and brought it down fahst, crackin me in the jewels with the switch."  
                                                                                       *****  
   With two more breaks in-between, they called it a day at eleven o'clock. Everyone was overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted, needing desperately to eat, sleep or cry it off. After a few teary goodbyes, Tony and the boys went back to the hotel, leaving Davy in Paul's caring and capable hands.  
   The next two days went along the same course, with the exception that everyone but Paul began the session with some form of sedation. More horror stories of Ben's hurtful actions - some not as bad - most _much worse_ , came pouring forth from Davy's lips to fall on the heartbroken ears of his family. Finally, on Friday afternoon it was all told out, a huge weight shifting from small, tired British shoulders to rest evenly among those of his five closest mates.  
   With Paul's permission, Davy was allowed to visit alone with Micky in the sunroom, while he briefed the others on Davy's prognosis - with his consent of course.  
   "Do you think this is going to hinder the progress of his recovery?"  
   "On the contrary Tony, while the incidents may have had an impact on him I believe the damage was incurred in his increased drug usage. Getting this painful experience off his chest and dealing with it is probably going to prove to create his _finest_ hour. He's a strong young man."  
   "How much longer do you think Tiny will be here?"  
   "My best guess, barring any setbacks, would be five or six weeks."  
   "When can he have visits and phone calls?"  
   "All things being considered Peter the staff and I have discussed Davy's needs at great length. He has made _monumental_ efforts, has followed every detail of his personal program and been a model citizen here if you will. He very much needs contact with all of you, so we're lifting the restrictions for him effective _immediately_."  
   "Thank you for doing so much for him Paul; you've really done so much more than your professional obligations require of you."  
   "I really think a lot of Davy, and I'd like _very much_ to see him succeed. Unless you have any other questions, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes."  
   "Thank you Dr. Scott. My brother will be a better man because of you."


	22. Chapter 22

   Back in Malibu the house was quietly subdued, even more so than it was in the absence of a certain rambunctious Englishman with an infectious laugh. Physically tired and emotionally drained from the whole experience, each of them sought solace in his own way:  
   Nicky had gone back to school, throwing himself into his classes and kitchen time, a productive effort to distract his mind from the nightmare his baby brother had endured. He was proud of Davy's efforts and would do no less himself to be as successful, giving his Bubba an equal reason to be proud.  
   Alone on the back deck with his guitar Peter played folk music, melancholy and wistful. The sea and sunset his only accompaniment, he communed alone with nature and his soul's own rhapsody, drifting into a more peaceful place.  
   Micky slept a lot, wrapped around Davy's pillow as if it were the man himself, biding his time until he could call the hospital and speak to his little one. As lonely as he was, it was the knowledge of Davy's suffering at the hands of Ben Worthington that had him in this funk: Davy was such a sweet and loving person, deserving none of what he had endured.  
   Tony busied himself in his garden, pulling weeds and pruning absentmindedly, his thoughts on Davy he nearly hacked his poor tomato plants into non-existence. Throwing in with the tomatoes, he gave it up and went inside, opting for an afternoon nap - rare for him - courtesy of a large amount of perfectly aged whiskey.  
   Mike - heartbroken over the knowledge that Davy had resorted to stealing his guitar to put and end to the mindless torture that Ben Worthington was administering - could not stand the sight of his most cherished possession. Usually turning to his music when frustrated, he closed Blond Beauty in her guitar case, storing her away in the closet. Attempting to appear the ever-calm, sturdy Michael, he began chopping onions for the night’s supper - the perfect place to mask a good cry.  
   Sunday burned hot and clear, Mother Nature having finally graced Malibu with her summer smile. Fed up with the dark, bluesy air about him Tony insisted that everyone hit the beach with a picnic lunch.  
   "I'm sorry Micky, but I'm putting my foot down on Davy's behalf. If he knew we were all moping around here feeling miserable he would regret _ever_ confiding in us. Get changed, I'll finish making lunch."  
   Heaving a sigh Micky made his way upstairs to find his swim trunks: He knew that it was pointless to argue with Tony when he'd made up his mind.  
   Slicing the pastrami Tony turned his gaze upon Mike who was sitting at the table, arms folded stubbornly across his chest. Wordlessly the plucky Italian raised an eyebrow, meeting the Texan's irritated glare head on. Squirming in his seat, Mike finally broke eye contact.  
   "Come on Peter," he said, huffing out of the chair, "let's go get changed."  
        Apparently, Mike _too_ knew when Tony meant business.  
   Twenty minutes later, they were spread out in their usual spot in the sand, with blankets, radio, frisbee and a fabulous basketful of food. The California sun having worked its usual magic had done its part to raise everyone's spirits. They were just about to begin a volleyball game against the red rider's - when Ben Worthington came strolling up the beach.  
   "Well, well - I see you're one man shy for volleyball Dolenz, need me to _fill_ in?" He laughed.  
   "Take a hike Worthington," Tony warned, grabbing Micky by the arm as he lunged toward Ben, "this part of the beach is off-limits to abusive, drug pushing _losers_ \- not to mention **_hazardous_** to your health."  
   "Ahh so the little Mary sang like a bird did he? Pity he went off wearing a _hug-yourself_ coat, he was a great little playmate. Did you kiss him goodbye Micky? If so, tell me - how does my _dick_ taste?"  
   " _ **YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH**_!" Micky shouted, breaking free of Tony's iron grip.  
   He was across the sand and pouncing on Ben Worthington before the others had time to blink, venting every ounce of rage and pain through his fists in a blind oblivious streak.  
   " **Micky**! Tony yelled, dashing after his friend, Mike at his side.  
   "Oh _shit_!" Mike yowled, grinning with delight in spite of the horde of shocked onlookers.  
   " _ **Amici - stop**_! He isn't _worth_ it!"  
   Micky however was too far gone to hear him, hammering blow after blow at the whimpering mess beneath him that was Ben Worthington. Mike and Tony together were struggling to pull their frenzied friend from the bleeding man, but with a final concentrated effort managed to dislodge him from straddling his battered opponent.  
   "Get to kickin _sand_ Worthington," Mike spat angrily, "go play in _traffic_."  
   Sobbing, angry and nearly hysterical Micky walked on unsteady legs back to the house, leaning on his friends lest he drop to the ground. Intuitively, Peter had already packed up their things and carried them home. While Tony tended his bloody knuckles, Peter made Micky a cup of tea - which Mike laced with a generous shot of bourbon. Speaking in a soft, even tone, his long-time friend made an effort to soothe and reason with his broken soul.  
   "Mi amici, I _know_ what you're thinking. That wretch Worthington is a **_lying bastard_** and was only trying to upset you, your little one would **_never_** stoop to that extreme - never break his vows of love to you - and most c _ertainly_ not with the likes of **him**. Calm your mind mi amore, and listen to what your _heart_ already knows."  
   "I n-know you're r-right, but h-he.. _he_ -"  
   "Simmer down shotgun n drink the tea."  
   Swallowing the hot brew in three large gulps Micky paused, taking several deep breaths and gathering himself together. The bourbon worked its charms, calming him considerably and he attempted again to voice his thoughts.  
   "I.. I can't imagine Davy would.. would do _anything_ with - **HIM** \- but you guys _KNOW_ how desperate he was, how lost and confused; he was doing a lot of things he would never _normally_ do, but that isn’t even why I’m so upset. What really got me was the images in my head of everything Davy told us Ben did to him.. I just _lost_ it out there."  
   "I'm against violence, you all know that," Peter mused aloud, "but I'm so angry with Rocket, I could have _easily_ taken your place out there Micky. Davy is a sweet guy.. Rocket took advantage of him in the _worst_ way possible."  
   "All of us would've liked to have a piece of him amici, I too hate violence and fighting, but I admit I felt a certain joy with every punch you landed."  
   First off Mick Tiny would **_NOT_ ** do that to you - what that asshole suggested - he may have a lot of issues with this thing but you are _everything_ to him, he's not gonna wreck that. Second, didn't I tell you _I_ wanted a piece of that action shotgun?" He grinned.  
   "Ya gotta move faster than _that_ Tex," Micky said with a tentative smile.  
   "Peter how about another cup of tea for our boy here," Tony proposed, "I need to make a phone call."  
   "Coming right up."  
   When Tony returned to the kitchen he seemed somber yet determined. Marching up to Micky, he gave him terse instructions.  
   "Go and get dressed and do it quickly. You and I are taking a _ride_."  
   "Okay _that's_ scary."  
   "How do you mean?"  
   "Because," Micky said with a playful grin, inching toward the stairs, "when a full-blooded Italian says you're going for a _ride_ it usually means he's _bumping you off_."  
   "Move your _culo magro_ or I _**may**_ consider that."  
   "Where we going?"  
   "I would tell you, but then you'd have to ride in the trunk.. _cement shoes_ etc."  
   "Funny Tonio."  
   " _Move_ it Micky!"  
   "Moving it."  
                                                                                      *****  
   Three hours later, they pulled into the parking garage of the LA Community Hospital, much to Micky's surprise - and dread.  
   "What are we doing _here_?"  
  "Family session."  
  "Okay, then why isn't the _whole_ family here?"  
  "Because this is for you and Davy only. You _have_ to talk to him Micky; you have to find out for yourself what - _if anything_ \- happened with Worthington."  
   "I can't _do_ this."  
   "You can, and if you want to save this relationship, you **must**."  
   "Sure, right. 'Hi Davy I miss you and all but I _really_ came to find out if you were _sucking Ben's cock_ ' … **_That's_ ** gonna go over real smooth."  
   "Well _NO_ , an approach like that isn't going to work! Amici tell him what happened today - _everything_ that was said and done - and take it from there. He'll answer your questions and you'll _**know**_ if it's the truth."  
   "Where are you gonna be?"  
   "I'll be waiting in the car."  
   "Why can't you come with me?"  
   "You would _want_ me there if he says it happened?"  
   "... "  
   "Perhaps _Davy_ would prefer to discuss this in private?"  
   "I think I'm gonna throw up."  
   "Well do it in the bushes over there and be quick about it, your appointment with Paul is in _five_ minutes."  
                                                                                      *****  
   "Am I in some kind of _trouble_?" Davy asked, sitting nervously in Paul's office.  
   "What makes you think that kiddo?" Paul asked out of habit, "Something you need to _tell_ me?"  
   "No sir, just not expecting you to drive out 'ere on a Sunday ahftahnoon to call me into yer office: Makes me nervous."  
   "Relax Davy, impromptu session by request of a family member."  
   "Oh really? _Which one_?"  
   With impeccable timing, it was at that moment that Micky knocked.  
   "Guess you're about to find out," Paul smiled, moving to answer the door.  
   "Good afternoon, come in."  
   " _ **Micky**_!"  
   "Hey little one," he said with little enthusiasm, offering a brief hug and taking a seat.  
   "Davy, Micky has something he is having some difficulty with," Paul began, "I am here on a professional basis only and will _not_ be recording this session. I am going to stay out of this unless I feel it necessary to get involved, okay? Micky, it's all yours."  
   "First of all Davy, I love you, and whatever the truth is, I can _take_ it - but I _really_ need to know. I'm counting on you to be honest with me, so we can work through any hurdles and _still_ be together."  
   " ... Okay. I love you too, and whatever it is, I promise - _straight up_ \- the **_whole_** truth."  
   Micky turned his chair to face his little one and taking a deep breath, plowed forward with the events of that morning in an uncharacteristically slow and even voice. As tears trickled down his cheeks, he detailed the picnic and Ben walking up to them with his mouth running in high gear. Davy sat silent, fat tears of his own flooding from brown eyes clouded with sadness and pain. As Micky poured out his heart to him, Davy glanced from time to time to his blood-crusted, bandaged knuckles, wincing inside. Finished with his tale, Micky looked up at him, playing absentmindedly with his own fingertips and asked him the million-dollar question.  
   "Dave, I'm sorry - but I _gotta_ know - did you and Ben.. do _anything_?"  
   "I'm not gonna lie to you," Davy began in a soft, steady voice, "I promised you the truth and even if it takes me skin orf, I'm gonna give it to you."  
   Prepared for the worst, Micky nodded silently, fresh tears dropping into his lap, as he could no longer meet Davy's gaze.  
   "The week before I took orf with Mike's guitar, I was at 'is place for my usual needs. When I got there, Ben was really drunk and smokin' grass to boot. Once I went in, he locked the door and literally pounced on me, insisting that I was gonna.. suck 'im orf - fer me pills. Pulled it out, pinned me down and tried like _hell_ to force 'imself on me. All I could think of was **you**. I was _not_ about to let Ben blur my mind with _THAT_ memory every time you and I would make love. I turned me 'ead and bit 'im, on the fleshy pahrt of 'is hip and it made 'im jump enough so I could fight my way up. We fought - _literally_ \- fer a minit, n I gave ‘im the ol’ _Manchestah Kiss_.. hightailed it outta there… Remember when I told ev'ryone I'd tripped n hit me ‘ead on the door?”  
   "Yaa.  
   "Well babe, I _lied_. I got that bruise and cut on my forehead from fighting with Ben. It _didn't 'appen_ Micky, and if it meant fighting to my _**death**_ to prevent it, it **nevah will**."  
   "Oh _GOD_ little one! I'm _so sorry_ I doubted you Davy, can you ever forgive me?"  
   "Babe, there's nothing to _forgive_. I've been a mess fer some time now, doing things that are _totally_ against my nature. Ahftah ev'rythin' I told you lahst week and Worthington tryin to convince you of more, why _wouldn't_ you worry? It's all good Micky, and I love you _even more_."  
                                                                                       *****                                                                                        
   Shortly after five Micky climbed into the Maserati with a huge smile plastered to his face. Grinning like an idiot and absolutely in love, he leaned back and instructed his would-be chauffeur.  
   " _Home_ Jeeves."  
   "I take it that went better than you'd expected?" Tony grinned back, as he started the motor.  
   "Yes. _Grazie_ mio fratello, il mio amico. Thanks for pushing this."  
   "What have we always done for each other mio fratello mondana? _Push, support, love_."  
   "Well you saved me today. You may have even saved my _relationship_. Thanks."  
   "I assume this means that Worthington was blowing smoke. I figured as much."  
   "Well, _mostly_ yes, but.. well, I’ll explain it at home - I only wanna repeat _this garbage_ once.”  
   "Fine by me. How is our little one?"  
   "He's doing good. We finished up pretty quick so Paul gave us about twenty minutes alone in his office."  
   "Necking is against the rules you know," he grinned.  
   "Yaa well, one or both of us will be taking an _extended_ shower tonight," Micky laughed.  
   "Why don't you call ahead amici and see what the boys have going on. If nobody has started dinner, we can pick up some takeout on the way back."  
   "Sounds great to me!"


	23. Chapter 23

   Six and a half weeks later Davy graduated from his program with full honors from the staff and a prognosis for a bright, drug-free future. At eleven that morning he was to be discharged, his ecstatic family waiting for him in the downstairs lobby. When Paul came off the elevator alone, everyone began to panic.  
   "Where's Davy?"  
   "Isn't he coming _home_?"  
   "Tell me Tiny isn't in any _trouble_?"  
   " **EVERYBODY CALM DOWN**! Tony shouted, "Paul, _is_ everything alright?"  
   "Absolutely, please - everyone settle down - he's still leaving with you. He has asked me not to sign his paperwork yet so that you can come upstairs with me - which is allowed as long as he is still registered as a patient here. There is something he wants to share with all of you, but mostly you Mike. Follow me gentlemen."  
   Curious and extremely intrigued they followed him in silence to the elevator and up to the third floor. Once through the security station Paul led them down the hall to the recreational wing and into the music room. There at the piano Davy sat alone, looking out the window at the ocean below. From across the room, it was clear that he'd put his weight back on and maybe an extra pound or two - he looked healthy and full of life - the vital, vibrant young man they all remembered.  
   " _Mr. Jones_?" Paul smiled.  
   "He-hey!" Davy greeted exuberantly, whirling around on the stool, "yer all 'ere!"  
   " _WOW_ do you ever look _**GREAT**_!" Micky exclaimed!  
   " _Dayum_ Tiny! Look at you!"  
   "Hey kiddo, looking good!"  
   "Gosh Davy," Peter grinned, "It's gonna be so great having you home!"  
   "Thanks mate, I can 'ardly wait to get there meself!"  
   "So," Mike smiled shyly, I understand there's sumthin you wanna um.. _show_ me - _**us**_?"  
   "Yes, right! One of the things they encourage 'ere is to do things that you like, whether it's art, poetry, music - something creative to stimulate you that doesn't require.. well, _outside_ influences. I've spent most of my free time up'ere in the music room, and I've.. well, I’ll show you. This is for all of you to see, hear - but Mike, it's mostly _you_ I want to share this with."  
   Turning to the keys Davy closed his eyes and took a breath. When fully focused he opened them and began to play a beautiful lilting tune. Several bars in, he began to sing softly:

                                                            "When the world and I were young, just yesterday,  
                                                            Life was such a simple game - a child could play.  
                                                                 It was easy then to tell right from wrong,  
                                                                      Easy then to tell weak from strong,  
                                                                    When a man should stand and fight,  
                                                                                     Or just go along.  
                                                                      But today there is no day or night,  
                                                                        Today there is no dark or light,  
                                                                       Today there is no black or white,  
                                                                              Only shades of gray…”

   He continued on till his composition was through, playing and singing, his eyes squeezed shut with a passionate fire, the music being drawn out from within him. When he was through and the last note sounded, he looked up at his lover, his friend, his guardian and his mentor to find them all in various stages of emotion - from Tony's moist eyes to the outright tears pouring down Mike's face. Shuffling forward the lanky Texan grabbed him into his arms, hugging him for all he was worth, Davy responding with the tightest squeeze he could muster for his friend.  
   "I'm sorry," Mike whispered, "I'm _so sorry_ you've gone through so much pain. I _love_ you Tiny."  
   "I love you too Mike," he whispered back.  
   "And please tell me you wrote all of that down.. cuz by God _that's_ gonna be our next big song!"  
   "Hey now, you taught me well enough, s'all on paper - words _and_ music."  
   "He has an amazing talent - a _gift_ , truly," Paul beamed at Davy, "Please, _cultivate_ it. He's going to go far."  
   "If you ask me," Tony smiled proudly, "he _already has_."  
   "Come on little one, let's get you home."  
   "Sounds good by me Micky!"  
   "I'm so happy Davy, Peter gushed, "you're not addicted anymore!"  
   "Tha's where yer wrong Petah. I'm recovered from my addiction, but I'll _always_ hafta be careful. For the rest of my _**LIFE**_ I have the potential to slip - I will _always_ be an addict - but I plan on being a **clean** one, from 'ere on out!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Addiction is real. It destroys lives and obliterates familiesoften resulting in death. In most cases the individual needs professional help in treating their addiction or dependence. If you or someone you love needs help, please call the National Drug Abuse Hotline 24 hrs a day at 1-877-795-1958. Please, call before its too late.
> 
> DEDICATED TO:  
> Cookie  
> Putter  
> Jr  
> Maddie  
> Bitty Bop  
> JT   
> The Lost Child

**Author's Note:**

> Addiction is real. It destroys lives and obliterates families, often resulting in death. Devastated children, ruined marriages and the cost to one’s own health are high. In most cases, the individual needs professional help in treating their addiction or dependence. If you or someone you love needs help, please call the National Drug Abuse Hotline 24 hrs a day at 1-877-795-1958. Please, call before it’s too late.
> 
> DEDICATED TO:  
> Cookie  
> Putter  
> Jr  
> Maddie  
> Bitty Bop  
> JT  
> The Lost Child


End file.
